University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

Frank Martin's Le vin herbé: a critical analysis and guide to performance

(USC Thesis Other)

Frank Martin's Le vin herbé: a critical analysis and guide to performance

PDF

Download a page range

Download transcript

Copy asset link

Request this asset

Transcript (if available)

Content

FRANK MARTIN'S LE VIN HERBÉ:

A CRITICAL ANALYSIS AND GUIDE TO PERFORMANCE

by

Daniel Kevin Roihl

A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE THORNTON SCHOOL OF MUSIC
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF MUSICAL ARTS
(CHORAL MUSIC)

December 2014

Copyright 2014 Daniel Kevin Roihl
ii

DEDICATION
This dissertation is dedicated to the memory of Paul Salamunovich (1927-2014), in
reverent gratitude for a life tirelessly devoted to advancing the choral arts, and for the
wisdom and inspiration he bestowed on generations of musicians.

May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
iii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This document represents the culmination of a very long journey—one that I
could never have undertaken alone. I am deeply indebted to many people who have
supported, encouraged, pushed, and nurtured me along the way. While I cannot possibly
include them all here, I am thankful for the opportunity to offer special mention of a few.
First of all, I owe a debt of gratitude to my dissertation committee: Nick Strimple,
Jo-Michael Scheibe, and Bryan Simms, for their patience, dedication, input, and
encouragement. I am also grateful to the other USC choral faculty and faculty emeriti
whom I have been blessed to call my teachers and mentors—particularly William
Dehning, Magen Solomon, and David Wilson—as
well
as
my
past
teachers
and

mentors
who
have
served
as
role
models,
inspiring
my
lifelong
passion
for
this
field,

including
Jameson
Marvin,
Murray
Forbes
Somerville,
Constance
DeFotis,

Marguerite
Brooks,
Paul
Halley,
Tom
Brand,
Rebecca
Rosenbaum,
David
Connell,

John
Oliver,
Martin
Neary,
and
Helmuth
Rilling.

I
am
also
grateful
to
my
USC

classmates
and
colleagues
for
creating
such
a
nurturing
and
mutually
supportive

environment
in
which
to
grow,
learn,
and
live.

I
can
truly
say
I
learned
as
much

from
them
as
from
any
class
or
book.

iv
For their contributions and assistance to my research efforts, I offer my warm and
heartfelt thanks to the administrative staff of the Flora L. Thornton School of Music, the
USC Music Library, Harvard's Eda Kuhn Loeb Music Library, Universal Edition, the
Wien Bibliothek, and the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek. I am also deeply indebted
to my colleagues at Deerfield Academy for their support, understanding, and collegiality
throughout this process—particularly
Jen
Whitcomb,
Peter
Warsaw,
John
Van
Eps,

and
Lynn
Sussman—as
well
as
my
students,
for
their
continuing
inspiration
and

perspective.

Mme.
Françoise
Ellis
deserves
special
mention
as
well,
for
her

assistance
with
some
of
the
thornier
grammatical
nuances
of
the
French
language.

Most
importantly,
I
could
not
possibly
have
endured
this
long
and
often

challenging
road
without
the
continual
love
and
support
of
my
family:
my
parents

Norbert
and
Janis
Roihl,
my
sister
Maureen
Johnson,
and
my
loving
and
devoted

wife
Corinna.

What
measure
of
success
I
may
find
in
this
life
will
not
have
been

possible
without
their
patience,
understanding,
faith,
and
unconditional
devotion,

and
I
am
forever
in
their
debt.

v

CONTENTS
DEDICATION .................................................................................................................... ii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ................................................................................................. iii

LIST OF FIGURES .......................................................................................................... vii

ABSTRACT ....................................................................................................................... ix

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION ....................................................................................... 1

Need for the Study .......................................................................................................... 6

CHAPTER 2: FRANK MARTIN ....................................................................................... 8

Early Years (1890-1918) ................................................................................................. 9

Middle Years (1918-1938) ............................................................................................ 13

Martin and 12-Tone Technique .................................................................................... 16

Compositional Maturity (1938-1974) ........................................................................... 20

CHAPTER 3: THE TRISTAN LEGEND ......................................................................... 28

The Origins of the Tristan Legend ................................................................................ 30

Tristan and Arthur ......................................................................................................... 32

Transmission ................................................................................................................. 35

Later redactions ............................................................................................................. 37

Wagner and Bédier ....................................................................................................... 38

"Hélas! ma chimère": Bédier's Roman ......................................................................... 44

An ancient legend renewed ........................................................................................... 46

Structural unity and the 'law of logical progression' ..................................................... 47

The nature of the love potion ........................................................................................ 51

The philtre as symbol .................................................................................................... 54

Bédier's Roman: Other Considerations ......................................................................... 58

vi
CHAPTER 4: THE TEXT OF LE VIN HERBÉ ............................................................... 61

From Prose to Music: The Original (One-Act) Libretto of Le Vin Herbé .................... 62

Partial allusions ............................................................................................................. 64

Dramatic form ............................................................................................................... 66

From Episode to Oratorio: The Complete Le Vin Herbé .............................................. 70

Une forme plus complète .............................................................................................. 74

Other textual changes .................................................................................................... 79

Love in Any Language: Translations of Le Vin Herbé ................................................. 82

Le Vin Herbé in English ................................................................................................ 89

Conclusion .................................................................................................................... 93

CHAPTER 5: THE MUSIC OF LE VIN HERBÉ ............................................................. 95

General Features ........................................................................................................... 95

Vocal Melody in Le Vin Herbé ..................................................................................... 99

Tonality ....................................................................................................................... 109

Harmonic Language .................................................................................................... 121

12-Tone Rows in Le Vin Herbé .................................................................................. 131

The Row as Melody .................................................................................................... 137

The Row as Bass Line ................................................................................................. 140

The “Distributed” Row ............................................................................................... 142

Motivic Development and Large-Scale Unity ............................................................ 145

A "Seminal" Motive .................................................................................................... 151

CHAPTER 6: PERFORMANCE CONSIDERATIONS AND CONCLUSIONS ......... 164

Performance Materials and Recordings ...................................................................... 164

The Problem of Classification .................................................................................... 167

Choral Music or Chamber Music? .............................................................................. 169

Oratorio or Opera? ...................................................................................................... 171

Musical Language ....................................................................................................... 176

Performance Challenges ............................................................................................. 178

Soloists ........................................................................................................................ 180

Background Material .................................................................................................. 184

BIBLIOGRAPHY ........................................................................................................... 191

Appendix A: Scene-By-Scene Musical Analysis of Le Vin Herbé ................................. 199

Appendix B: Errata identified in the published full score of Le Vin Herbé ................... 216

vii

LIST OF FIGURES
Fig. 1 ................................................................................................................................. 91

Fig. 2 ............................................................................................................................... 101

Fig. 3 ............................................................................................................................... 102

Fig. 4 ............................................................................................................................... 104

Fig. 5 ............................................................................................................................... 105

Fig. 6 ............................................................................................................................... 107

Fig. 7 ............................................................................................................................... 108

Fig. 8 ............................................................................................................................... 108

Fig. 9 ............................................................................................................................... 112

Fig. 10 ............................................................................................................................. 118

Fig. 11 ............................................................................................................................. 122

Fig. 12 ............................................................................................................................. 123

Fig. 13 ............................................................................................................................. 127

Fig. 14 ............................................................................................................................. 127

Fig. 15 ............................................................................................................................. 128

Fig. 16 ............................................................................................................................. 129

Fig. 17 ............................................................................................................................. 130

Fig. 18 ............................................................................................................................. 132

Fig. 19 ............................................................................................................................. 134

Fig. 20 ............................................................................................................................. 137

Fig. 21 ............................................................................................................................. 144

Fig. 22 ............................................................................................................................. 148

Fig. 23 ............................................................................................................................. 148

Fig. 24 ............................................................................................................................. 148

Fig. 25 ............................................................................................................................. 149

Fig. 26 ............................................................................................................................. 149

Fig. 27 ............................................................................................................................. 149

Fig. 28 ............................................................................................................................. 150

Fig. 29 ............................................................................................................................. 150

Fig. 30 ............................................................................................................................. 150

Fig. 31 ............................................................................................................................. 152

Fig. 32 ............................................................................................................................. 153

viii
Fig. 33 ............................................................................................................................. 155

Fig. 34 ............................................................................................................................. 157

Fig. 35 ............................................................................................................................. 157

Fig. 36 ............................................................................................................................. 158

Fig. 37 ............................................................................................................................. 158

Fig. 38 ............................................................................................................................. 159

Fig. 39 ............................................................................................................................. 160

Fig. 40 ............................................................................................................................. 161

Fig. 41 ............................................................................................................................. 162

Fig. 42 ............................................................................................................................. 162

ix

ABSTRACT
Frank Martin's secular chamber oratorio Le Vin Herbé (1938-1941), originally
scored for twelve singers and eight instruments, represents a watershed moment in the
development of one of the most prolific and unique compositional voices of the twentieth
century. The work is important on two counts: first, because it represents the first ripe
fruits of the peculiar synthesis of influences that characterizes virtually all of Martin's
mature compositional output; and second, because it is, in its own right, a masterfully
crafted work of profound beauty and intense drama—one that is accessible to musical
organizations of relatively modest means, and that deserves to be more widely performed
and heard.
The text of Le Vin Herbé is taken from Joseph Bédier's Le Roman de Tristan et
Iseut (1900), which recounts the ages-old story of two lovers who drink a magic potion
and fall helplessly in love. Since at least the twelfth century, this so-called "Tristan
legend" has been proliferated worldwide in countless versions and redactions. In
compiling his own novel, Bédier hoped to make the tale accessible to a twentieth-century
French-speaking audience, while also adhering as faithfully as possible to both the spirit
and content of the medieval sources. Since Martin's contribution cannot be fully
appreciated without an understanding of its place in relation to this extensive
mythological corpus, one of the aims of the present study is to consider the work within
this greater literary context. Particular attention is paid to the inevitable comparisons
x
with Wagner's music drama on the same subject, which came to light three-quarters of a
century earlier. Apart from the most superficial alignment of their dramatic content,
however, these two works could not be more different.
Martin's musical aesthetic, like Swiss culture in general, is often described in
terms of a confluence of French and German styles. In reality, however, his
compositional output, and particularly the elements that constitute his mature style as
exemplified in Le Vin Herbé, incorporate a broad and eclectic range of aesthetic
influences. Chief among these are Martin's uniquely expressive harmonic language, the
lyricism of his melodic writing, his use of flexible and often irregular speech-like
rhythms, and perhaps most of all, his efforts to reconcile certain aspects of the
dodecaphonic technique of Schoenberg with his own firmly entrenched tonal
sensibilities. These and other aspects of Martin's compositional style are examined in
detail within the context of Le Vin Herbé.
Martin's compositions continue to be performed widely throughout Europe, and a
few have even gained a lasting foothold here in the United States—particularly the Petite
Symphonie Concertante (1945), his most celebrated work. Le Vin Herbé, however, has
largely failed to gain the traction it deserves, in part because the work's narrative stance
and musical scoring make it difficult to categorize and program. It is hoped that this
study may help pave the way for the work to reach a wider audience.

1

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION

Undoubtedly the greatest Swiss composer is Frank Martin (1890-1974)… In
1938, Martin began to compose the secular cantata Le Vin Herbé, for twelve
voices, seven instruments and piano, based on Joseph Bédier’s version of the
Tristan story…Certainly it was a critical point in his career; for the first time
Martin emerges as a composer with a truly individual and indeed masterly style.
In effect Le Vin Herbé, which he only completed in 1941, is the real key to his
work…Everything he produced since Le Vin Herbé is of great excellence.
1

Every now and then, in the concert hall or on records, you will hear a new work
so beautiful that for a while you do not want to hear any more music, wishing
only to go back in memory and savor the loveliness of what has just been
revealed. One such work is Le Vin Herbé. It reveals Frank Martin not only as a
good composer but as one of the foremost composers of the present day.
2

Frank Martin’s secular chamber oratorio Le Vin Herbé, a setting of portions of
Joseph Bédier's Roman de Tristan et Iseut for twelve singers and eight instruments,
represents a watershed moment in the development of one of the most prolific and unique
compositional voices of the twentieth century. The work is important on two counts:
first, because it represents the first ripe fruits of the peculiar synthesis of influences that

1
Ernest Ansermet, “Frank Martin,” in Larousse Encyclopedia of Music (New
York: Crescent Books, 1987), 486.

2
Alfred Frankenstein, "Le Vin Herbé: What Debussy Planned Now
Consummately Achieved," High Fidelity 12 (May 1962), 66.
2
characterizes virtually all of Martin's mature compositional output; and second, because it
is, in its own right, a masterfully crafted work of profound beauty and intense drama—
one that is accessible to musical organizations of relatively modest means, and that
deserves to be more widely performed and heard.
Martin's considerable musical output of over a hundred and forty works spans a
period of seventy-five years, and embraces a vast array of genres, forms, and styles.
Although many of his early works continue to be held in high esteem, by his own
admission it took him many years to develop and refine his unique compositional voice:
I truly found myself very late...it was only towards the age of forty-five that I
discovered my true language...And I can say that my most personal output begins
around the age of fifty. If I had died then, I could never have expressed myself in
my true language.
3

His importance was most firmly established in his native Switzerland, where he served as
President of the Association des Musiciens Suisses from 1942 to 1946, won the Prix de
Genève in 1951, and received honorary doctorates from the universities of Geneva and
Lausanne. His compositions are continually performed throughout Europe, and a few
have even gained a lasting foothold in the United States—particularly the Petite
Symphonie Concertante (1945), his best-known and most celebrated work. One trait for
which his music has garnered particular praise is its innate lyricism; even in purely
instrumental works his melodies often convey a song-like quality. Among his most
highly regarded works for solo voice are his Sechs Monologe aus Jedermann for baritone

3
'Entretiens avec Frank Martin,' Zodiaque 103 (January 1975), quoted and
translated in Mervyn Cooke, "Late Starter," Musical Times vol. 134, no. 1801 (March
1993), 134.
3
and piano (1943-44) and his inventive Poèmes de la Mort for three male singers and three
electric guitars (1969-71). Choral musicians, particularly in America, are most likely to
be acquainted with Frank Martin through his Messe pour double choeur a cappella
(1922), an early work with a somewhat archaic, modal flavor, and perhaps also his Five
Songs of Ariel (1950).
The Swiss musicologist Bernhard Billeter, who has written extensively about
Martin’s life and works, suggests that one possible explanation for the composer’s
relative neglect is that his music does not fall neatly into any particular descriptive
category. He purports, “The extremely prolonged development of his characteristic style
makes it impossible to place Martin in any particular school or to compare him with any
other composer.”
4
This developmental process is often described, among other things, in
terms of a synthesis of French and German influences—a reflection of both the confluent
nature of Swiss culture, and the conspicuous absence of an established legacy of
reputable Swiss composers. Martin has been variously associated with a variety musical
styles and movements, including neo-Impressionism, romanticism, neo-classicism, the
Second Viennese School, and others. Despite this ambiguity, however, it is widely
acknowledged that with Le Vin Herbé, Martin achieved a refined, distinctive idiom all his
own—one that informed all his subsequent works with an unmistakable stamp of identity.

4
Bernhard Billeter, New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, s.v. "Martin,
Frank", 715.

4
Billeter goes on to state, without a hint of contradiction, “Martin’s music always has a
recognizable sound.”
5

Perhaps one of the reasons Le Vin Herbé has not achieved the same repute as
some of Martin’s other compositions, despite its being almost universally acknowledged
(at least academically) as his most important work, is that like its creator, it largely defies
categorization. Scored for twenty performers, it is too unwieldy to qualify as chamber
music. Strictly speaking, it is not a “choral” work either, although it has sometimes been
adapted for presentation by chamber choirs—and with sufficient success to justify such
license. While it does exhibit certain fundamental aspects of oratorio, cantata, and
operatic repertoire, none of these terms fully encapsulates its essential dramatic form.
Furthermore, the musical language is itself somewhat elusive, hovering tantalizingly
between tonality and atonality, exploiting chromatic enrichment to the fullest without
ever completely renouncing the acoustically verifiable hierarchical relationships that have
shaped virtually the entire corpus of Western art music.
Regardless of the particular descriptive term one chooses to apply to Le Vin
Herbé, it is first and foremost a narrative work—which is to say that it tells a story,
however dramatically or objectively that story is presented. The story in question,
consisting of carefully selected excerpts from Joseph Bédier’s novel Le Roman de Tristan
et Iseut, is itself part of an immense mythological corpus reaching back at least to the
twelfth century, and quite possibly even the sixth century or beyond. Martin’s
contribution, therefore, cannot be fully appreciated or evaluated without some

5
Ibid.
5
understanding of its place in relation to this extensive body of Tristan lore, and part of the
aim of this present study is to consider the work within this larger mythological and
philological context.
Due to its subject, Le Vin Herbé has inevitably invited comparison to Wagner’s
music drama Tristan und Isolde, which came to light three-quarters of a century earlier.
Apart from the most superficial alignment of their dramatic content, however, these two
works could not be more different. On the whole, Martin’s musical language is reserved,
often understated, and at times even austere. Wagner’s aesthetic is much more direct, as
is his libretto. In contrast, the third-person perspective of Bédier’s text gives Martin’s
setting a sense of distance, the narrative voice acting as a buffer between the characters
and the listener, and giving the work at once an archaic flavor and a feeling of
authenticity—or at least, objectivity. Having soundly refuted such a comparison, many
writers have looked instead to the works of Debussy, particularly Pelléas et Mélisande,
for a stylistic precedent to Le Vin Herbé—an analogy usually substantiated on the basis
of their similar treatment of motivic material, their subtle and often atmospheric use of
instrumentation, and their sensitivity to the natural cadence and declamation of the
French language. In light of Debussy’s self-conscious desire to avoid Wagnerian excess
in his opera, it is tempting also to ascribe a similarly reactionary impetus to Martin’s
work, particularly in light of its subject—whether or not such a motivation existed at the
time of the work’s conception. In a 1949 article exploring Martin’s musical style,
Abraham Skulsky further extends this “Debussyan” analogy to include the two
composers’ assimilation of dodecaphonic principles:
6
It is in his particular use of the twelve-tone system that the link between Martin
and Debussy becomes apparent. One might say that Martin is to Schönberg as
Debussy is to Wagner.
6

Any substantial discussion of Martin’s mature style must inevitably account for the
influence of Schoenberg, as the adoption of certain aspects of Schoenberg’s twelve-tone
technique forms an indispensible part of what is widely recognized as Martin’s distinct
compositional voice. Martin himself wrote extensively on this matter, and his writings
elucidate not only his particular view regarding the benefits (and limitations) of
Schoenberg’s approach, but also the aesthetic tensions and fundamental beliefs that
shaped his own unique application of those principles.

Need for the Study
As Charles King’s bio-bibliography of 1990 indicates, there is already an
extensive body of literature about Frank Martin and his music, much of it written by the
composer himself. Among these works, several are of particular relevance to an
understanding of Le Vin Herbé in terms of its importance within Martin’s oeuvre, the
circumstances of its creation, and its aesthetic foundations. Unfortunately, however,
most of that literature is in French or German, and thus not readily accessible to
conductors in the English-speaking world. King’s extensive annotated bibliography takes
an invaluable step toward closing this gap, offering an excellent point of departure for
further study by interested scholars and performers, but it does not itself contain any

6
Abraham Skulsky, “Frank Martin: A Clear Understanding of His Ideals of
Expression,” Musical America 69 (August 1949), 18.
7
substantial analysis of specific works. Despite widespread recognition of Le Vin Herbé’s
pivotal role in Martin’s compositional oeuvre, there is as yet no in-depth musical analysis
of this work.
7

Accordingly, the principal aim of this study is to offer a convenient resource for a
deeper understanding of that particular work, especially for choral conductors in English
speaking countries. It aims to achieve this primarily by (1) exploring Le Vin Herbé, as a
dramatic narrative, in relation to the extensive literary corpus of “Tristan lore”; (2)
fleshing out some of the analytical observations made by Billeter, Tupper, and others,
while supplementing them with additional analytical insights; and (3) examining some of
the specific issues and challenges involved in mounting a performance of the work. It is
hoped that such a resource may serve to encourage conductors (particularly in the United
States)
8
to consider performing this neglected gem of the repertory, while also supporting
the efforts of those who undertake such a performance. Part of this process will
necessarily entail the distillation of relevant existing literature in English, French, and
German.

7
The analytical studies of Billeter and Tupper represent the two foremost
undertakings in this respect. Tupper’s dissertation examines Martin’s stylistic
development more broadly, including Le Vin Herbé as one of eleven works chosen to
represent three stylistic periods. As a result, detailed analysis of any one of those works
is limited. Billeter’s study, which includes a partial distillation of Tupper’s observations,
is somewhat more granular but also limited, and most subsequent analyses of Le Vin
Herbé are substantially derivative of Billeter’s work.

8
A few pioneering American conductors have already led the charge, including
John Oliver (conductor of the Tanglewood Festival Chorus and the John Oliver Chorale)
and Mark Shapiro, who directed the first-ever CD recording of the work with his
(amateur!) chamber choir, I Cantori di New York.
8

CHAPTER 2: FRANK MARTIN

This chapter will serve to place the composition of Le Vin Herbé within the
greater context of Frank Martin's life and work. Relevant biographical background
information will be organized and presented in terms of three stylistic periods, as
suggested by Charles King in his biographical sketch.
1
These can be described as an
early period, in which Martin laid the foundations of a sound yet thoroughly conservative
musical training; a middle period, characterized by Martin's increasing exposure to new
and revolutionary currents in the world of art music, as well as the desire to identify and
nurture his own unique compositional style; and a late period, in which this mature style
is at last firmly established. This biographical summary will also include some general
discussion about Martin's aesthetic and philosophical views regarding the art of
composition, as well as a more specific account of Martin's particular attitudes toward the

1
King's somewhat cursory outline of Martin's life is provided as a preface to his
excellent and thoroughly annotated bibliography. Additional biographical information is
synthesized from a diverse array of sources, but primarily those by Skulsky, Tupper,
Koelliker, Klein, Billeter, Bernard Martin, and Maria Martin. Tupper applies an alternate
three-period division of Martin's output, defining his middle period as approximately
1938-1944.
9
12-tone techniques of Schoenberg and the Second Viennese School—attitudes that
played a crucial role in the development of his unique compositional style.

Early Years (1890-1918)
Frank Martin was born on September 15, 1890, in Geneva, Switzerland, the
youngest of ten children whose father, Charles, was a Calvinist minister. Frank's
grandfather (also named Charles) was a bassoonist and was very active in the musical life
of Geneva. Music was an integral part of the Martin household, as all ten children played
a musical instrument, but Frank was unique in showing both unusual promise and an
interest in composition from a young age. In an interview almost seventy years later,
Martin attributed his choice of piano as his primary instrument to an innate fascination
with harmony—something that was to influence his work throughout his life:
... the fact that I began on piano and not the violin was essentially because, from
my youth, I was infinitely more interested in harmony than in melody, and
melody for me was something so closely linked to harmony that I could not
conceive of it all alone.
2

2
[...] le fait que je me suis mis au piano et pas au violon venait de ce qu'au fond je
m'intéressais dans ma jeunesse infiniment plus à l'harmonie qu'à la mélodie, et la mélodie
était pour moi une chose tellement liée à l'harmonie que je ne pouvais pas la concevoir
toute seule. Frank Martin & Jean-Claude Piguet, Entretiens sur la Musique (Neuchâtel:
A la Baconnière, 1967), 13 (author's translation).

10
Martin tells us that he began composing around age seven or eight.
3
His earliest extant
composition, written at the age of nine, is a musical setting of a poem he learned in
school, and already reveals the composer's precocious musical instincts in such features
as a change of meter to accommodate the text declamation, and a modulation to the
dominant.
4

At age sixteen, Martin began studying piano, classical harmony, counterpoint,
composition, and instrumentation with the composer Joseph Lauber. Although he was
already inclined at this time to pursue a musical profession, he also showed a strong
aptitude for science, and completed a two-year course of study in mathematics and
physics at the University of Geneva—although this was largely in order to appease his
parents. During this time he also produced his first successful composition, the Trois
Poèmes Païens for baritone and orchestra, which was performed under Lauber's direction
at the annual Tonkünstlerfest in nearby Vevey. Encouraged by the success of this work,
he went on to compose several other works for this festival, including the Suite for
Orchestra (1913), the First Violin Sonata (1915), Les Dithyrambes (1918), the Piano
Quintet (1919), and the Pavane couleur du temps (1920).
In addition to Joseph Lauber, the young Martin also garnered the support of Hans
Huber and Frederic Klose, two other musicians also associated with the Geneva
Conservatory. Like Lauber, these two were of aesthetically conservative, largely

3
Maria Martin, ed., Frank Martin: l'univers d'un compositeur: catalogue de
l'exposition commémorant le dixième anniversaire de la mort de Frank Martin
(Lausanne: La Société Frank Martin, 1984), 6.

4
Bernhard Billeter, Frank Martin: Werdegang und Musiksprache seiner Werke
(Mainz: Schott, 1999), 30.
11
Germanic musical backgrounds, and Martin himself cites in particular the music of
Schumann, Wagner, and Bach as making a strong impression on him during his
adolescent years. The influence of Bach in particular can be traced to a performance of
the St. Matthew Passion the young Martin attended around the age of twelve, which he
would later refer to as "the event of my life".
5
For Martin, Bach would ever remain the
true master; however, it was upon encountering the music of César Franck that he began
to hunger for new musical directions:
César Franck meant for me the introduction to a music that deviates somewhat
from wholly conventional music. Before studying César Franck at the piano, I
was rather closed to all modern music; I was into Bach, more Bach and always
Bach, and I never left him, so to speak. But Franck liberated me.
6

Another factor that helped Martin to reach beyond the conservative sensibilities that
shaped his early musical development was his initial meeting with Ernest Ansermet, the
conductor of the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, who would become a lifelong friend
and advocate for Martin's music. In 1918, Ansermet had selected Martin's first major
choral-orchestral work, the symphonic oratorio Les Dithyrambes on texts by his brother
Pierre, for a performance at the festival of the Association of Swiss Musicians. Ansermet
recognized already in this early work a quality that would distinguish Martin's musical
output throughout his life:

5
"l'événement de ma vie". Martin & Piguet, Entretiens, 114.

6
"César Franck a signifié pour moi l'ouverture a une musique qui s'écarte quelque
peu de la musique tout à fait classique. Avant de travailler César Franck au piano, j'étais
assez fermé à toute la musique moderne; j'étais dans Bach, encore dans Bach et dans
Bach toujours, et je ne sortais pour ainsi dire pas de là. Or César Franck m'en a sorti."
Ibid., 113 (author's translation).
12
From the beginning, he presented himself not as a symphonist, but as a lyricist, an
artist whose music, above all, is song, but song with a long-breathed line,
reaching on the one hand into the distance, and on the other into the depths.
7

As the conductor of Diaghilev's Ballet Russes, Ansermet had developed an intimate
knowledge of the works of Ravel and Debussy, collaborating directly with both
composers on the performance of their works. In the course of their early interactions,
Ansermet introduced Martin to the works of these modern French composers, which were
to have a profound impact on Martin's musical development. Regarding his first
encounters with the music of Debussy in particular, Martin explains:
His music is for me absolutely capital. But I must say that as a young man, after
all, I did not understand anything, and his music had for me the effect of a bog; I
did not understand its harmonic progressions, nor did I perceive its forms. I had
enormous difficulty entering into this kind of music. What made me understand
Debussy was his Fêtes from the Nocturnes. From the day I heard Fêtes, all the
music of Debussy was made clear to me.
8

Martin's musical language is often framed in terms of the confluence of these two streams
of influence: the so-called "Germanic" style on the one hand, infused with Bach's
counterpoint and Wagner's chromaticism (to which the methods of Schoenberg and his

7
"D'emblée, il se donnait non pas comme un symphoniste, mais comme un
lyrique, un artiste dont la musique, avant tout, est chant, mais chant à longue haleine,
tendu d'une part vers les lointains, d'autre part vers les profondeurs." Quoted in Bernard
Martin, Frank Martin ou la réalité du rêve (Neuchâtel: A la Baconnière, 1973), 18
(author's translation).

8
"Sa musique est pour moi absolument capitale. Mais je dois dire que comme
jeune homme, au fond, je n'y comprenais rien du tout, et sa musique me faisait l'effet d'un
marécage; je ne comprenais pas ses enchaînements harmoniques, je ne percevais pas non
plus ses formes. J'avais énormément de peine à entrer dans cette sorte de musique. Ce
qui m'a fait comprendre Debussy, ce sont Fêtes dans les Nocturnes. Du jour où j'ai
entendu Fêtes, toute la musique de Debussy s'est éclairée pour moi." Martin & Piguet,
Entretiens, 117 (author's translation).
13
Second Viennese School would later be added), and the more progressive style of the
French Impressionists on the other. As Skulsky has noted, this tension can be seen as a
reflection of the culture of Martin's hometown of Geneva, in which characteristically
French charm is balanced by a distinctly Calvinist sense of reserve.
9

Middle Years (1918-1938)
It was only by traveling outside of his native Geneva that Martin came in direct
contact with many of the pioneering developments occurring in European art music. In
1918, Martin married his first wife, Odette Micheli, with whom he traveled extensively
following the end of the first World War. The couple lived for almost two years in
Zürich, briefly in Rome, and finally in Paris for two years. Martin's compositional output
from these years includes the Quintette (1919) and the Quatre sonnets à Cassandre
(1921), two works that strongly exhibit the influence of French music in general, and
particularly that of Ravel. The latter work, which Martin himself considered his first
"valuable" composition,
10
also reflects a conscious shift toward a more linear, archaic
style characterized by modal melody and triadic harmonies.
11
These same attributes also
pervade his next composition, the Messe pour double choeur a cappella. Begun in 1922
and completed in 1926, and perhaps inspired by Martin's exposure to Gregorian chant
while living in Rome, the Mass was eventually to become his best-known choral work. It

9
Skulsky, "Frank Martin," 8.

10
Maria Martin, L'univers d'un compositeur, 141.

11
Billeter, "Frank Martin" in New Grove Dictionary, 715.
14
was also the only sacred work he would produce until 1945 (apart from the Cantate pour
la Nativité, a work he never completed). Martin biographer Charles King suggests that
Martin's withdrawal from sacred composition was "due to his inability to resolve a
personal conflict between what he considered subjective artistic expression in art music
and the objective strictly ecclesiastical needs of music for congregational worship."
12

Whatever the reason, Martin withheld his Mass from publication or performance for
nearly forty years.
While in Paris, Martin met another lifelong friend, the writer and psychologist
André Berge, who helped him cultivate an appreciation for jazz and music of the Far
East. It is also during this time that Martin composed his Trio sur des Mélodies
Populaires Irlandaises for violin, cello, and piano, a work that reflects the composer's
heightened interest in rhythmic experimentation as a means to enrich his musical
language. The two years Martin spent living in Paris with Odette and their son (Renaud,
born in 1922) were trying, both emotionally and financially. He had taken a job as the
music director for a puppet troupe, the "Théâtre des Petits Comédiens de Bois", but even
with the occasional commissions and performance opportunities his various musical
activities furnished little income. In the meantime, his marriage was becoming
increasingly strained, a fact Billeter attributes to Odette's long-term mental illness.
13

By 1926, having returned again to Geneva, Martin took a job as a music critic for
the Geneva Tribune, and founded the Société de musique de chambre de Genève, an

12
Charles W. King, Frank Martin: A Bio-Bibliography (New York: Greenwood
Press, 1990), 5.

13
Billeter, Frank Martin: Werdegang und Musiksprache, 46.
15
organization dedicated to the performance of chamber works of the classical, romantic,
and modern periods. His increasing attention to rhythm gave rise to the three-movement
orchestral composition Rythmes, a work influenced by both medieval rhythmic modes
and polymetrical structures derived from the popular music of Bulgaria and the Far East.
Martin wrote of this work:
The title of this symphonic suite reflects a tendency to seek new and rarely used
aesthetic and expressive means in rhythm, whether in monodic rhythm of the
ancient manner, or in the polyrhythms of which Eastern music offers us such
surprising models.
14

It was this same fascination with rhythm that led Martin to attend a conference on
rhythmic musical education, given at the newly established Jaques-Dalcroze Institute in
Geneva. The conference made such an impression on him that he enrolled in the institute
shortly thereafter, becoming certified as a Eurhythmics instructor, and was subsequently
hired as a teacher of rhythmic theory and improvisation two years later. Martin would
retain this position, his first permanent job, for ten years; Émile Jacques-Dalcroze even
named Martin as his successor in his will, although by the time of his death in 1950,
Martin was already well established as a composer and unable to accept the position.
In 1930, Martin's rocky marriage to Odette finally ended in divorce. The
following year he married his second wife, Irène Gardian, with whom he would have
three daughters: Françoise (born 1932), Pernette (1935) and Adrienne (1937). Around

14
"Le titre de cette suite symphonique indique assez tendance à chercher dans le
rythme des moyens esthétiques et expressifs encore peu utilisés, qu'il s'agisse du rythme
monodique a la maniere antique ou de la polyrythmie dont les orientaux nous offrent des
modeles si surprenants." Frank Martin, quoted in Maria Martin, L'univers d'un
compositeur, 18 (author's translation).
16
this time he composed La Nique à Satan, a three-hour stage spectacle written for the
Genevan school teacher and poet Albert Rudhardt. Also in 1930, Martin was hired as a
Professor of Chamber Music at the Geneva Conservatory, a position he would give up
three years later to become the director of a new private music school in Geneva, the
Technicum Moderne de Musique. The mid-1930s were a crucial period in Martin's
artistic development, characterized by a conscious effort to identify and cultivate his own
uniquely personal compositional style. Rhythmic experimentation gradually took a back
seat to the desire to expand the tonal palette of his music. The second Violin Sonata
(1931-32), with its highly complex harmonic language verging on total chromaticism,
particularly exemplifies this tendency. Soon, Martin found himself searching for a way
to harness and control this vast universe of tonal possibilities. In an article marking the
centenary of the composer’s birth, Mervyn Cooke explains this crucial juncture in
Martin’s compositional development as follows:
From this point onwards, the composer increasingly felt the need for a method of
abstract organisation which would rationalise his complex harmonic language
without destroying the more fully developed interest in conventional counterpoint
which had been present in his music since the mid-1920s. Not surprisingly, the
necessary inspiration came from Schoenberg’s dodecaphonic techniques.
15

Martin and 12-Tone Technique
At this point, Martin took it upon himself to study the 12-tone techniques of the
Second Viennese School as a way of enriching his own melodic and harmonic musical
vocabulary. His self-immersion in the music of Schoenberg and his circle led him to

15
Mervyn Cooke, “Frank Martin’s Early Development,” Musical Times 131, no.
1771 (September 1990), 476.
17
compose a number of works in which he sought to incorporate those techniques into his
own writing, including the Quatre pièces brèves for guitar (1933), the First Piano
Concerto (1933-34), Rhapsodie for string quintet (1935), Danse de la peur for two pianos
and orchestra (1935), the Trio à cordes (1936), and the Symphonie pour grand orchestre
(1936-37). The process of grappling with Schoenberg's methods helped Martin to
formulate and concretize his own aesthetic views regarding tonality, atonality, and
dodecaphonic technique—views he expressed frequently in his own writings on music
throughout the later part of his life. More importantly, it enabled him to devise his own
unique method of incorporating certain aspects of that technique into a tonally grounded
(if not always functionally tonal) framework, which was to become a defining
characteristic of his mature style.
Martin explicates these views most eloquently in an article he wrote in 1947,
which was subsequently published both in the original French and in English
translation.
16
He begins by noting the rather polarizing effect Schoenberg’s technique
has had on the musical community as a result of its dogmatic codification, calling it “a
system of writing which was the most severe, the most rigid, ever known.”
17
He
characterizes the foundational principles of this system as nothing less than “an attempt
to overthrow music as it had been understood, felt and practised from its beginnings,”
18

16
Frank Martin, “Schönberg et nous," Polyphonie 4 (1950), 68-71, translated as
"Schönberg and Ourselves," Score 6 (1952), 15-17.

17
Ibid., 15.

18
Ibid.
18
claiming that “its main characteristic is that it is revolutionary, and so in the first place
destructive.”
19
Expounding even further on this conception, he writes:
As in every revolution, Schönberg’s new ideas have been raised into a system
which denies the validity of everything outside it, and which looks with particular
suspicion on all those who come anywhere near it without adopting it in its
entirety. Like all revolutionary movements, it thinks that it holds the future in its
hands, and does not understand that in its essence, by its very nature, it is
ephemeral, and that anything positive that comes out of it can only be fruitful if
integrated with the permanent values of music.
20

To Martin, these “permanent values” included the essential aspects of functional
tonal harmony, derived from the acoustical relationships between tones (octaves, fifths,
thirds, etc.) and the consequent functional relationships between tonic, dominant, and
subdominant harmonic structures. Like many of his contemporaries, however, Martin
also recognized the limitations of the system of classical tonality that had shaped Western
music for centuries. He concedes, “…we also realize that in the course of the last few
centuries this technique [of classical tonality] has come to complete fruition, and that all
it is likely to produce at the present day is a kind of pale academicism.”
21
What Martin
consciously sought, therefore, and what he strove to achieve in his own compositions,
was a reconciliation of the enrichments afforded by Schoenberg’s techniques with certain
musical and aesthetic sensibilities which he regarded as objective and innate, and which
prevented him from completely renouncing tonal relationships:

19
Ibid.,16.

20
Ibid.

21
Ibid.
19
We can enjoy being freed from the cadence and from classical tonality, but we
need not necessarily give up our feeling for tonal functions, for the functional
bass, and for a system of relationships which elementary acoustics show to be
based on physical fact.
22

From this perspective, the specific benefits Martin perceived as arising from the
dodecaphonic techniques of Schoenberg and his school, and which he ultimately distilled
and adapted to his own compositional style, consist of three main elements: melodic
enrichment, harmonic enrichment, and unity. Martin explains this in terms so directly
applicable to the compositional style exemplified in Le Vin Herbé and subsequent works
as to warrant reproducing the passage in its entirety:
Working with tone-rows, then, will teach us to think and write in a new language,
which everyone must develop for himself. And the first thing we shall learn will
be to invent rich melodies, since they must use all twelve notes of the chromatic
scale before going back to the first again. Trying to work this out takes us beyond
tonal or modal melody, and makes us doubly sensitive to the return of the melody
upon itself; for then it is with full consciousness of the need that we allow it to
happen; we are violating a fundamental rule for a clearly defined aesthetic
purpose. The note, as such, acquires a far greater value than in any other musical
technique. Quite apart from its tonal function and its relation to the notes which
precede, follow, or sound together with it, a G is a G in this technique, and it
becomes a matter of extreme importance to decide whether it should be repeated
at once in the same voice, or in another, or whether it should alternate between the
various voices, or be laid aside for a time. The mind is strangely quickened by
this feeling for the note itself. Here is a real enrichment, and a new demand. The
prohibition of the octave brings with it a kind of enrichment: it means that when
you write in more than three parts you will have progressions of chords that are
always dissonant. If you then compel yourself to give true harmonic meaning to
these progressions, the result will be a concentrated harmonic language such as no
other technique produces. And here again it will become a conscious act, a
purposeful breaking of established rule, to interrupt this harmonic density which
would otherwise very soon grow excessive. Further, the use of a single twelve-
tone row certainly gives unity to a large-sized work, even if the ear does not
recognize this row in its different forms, presented sometimes melodically,
sometimes split up between two or more real parts. It remains at the heart of the

22
Ibid., 16-17.
20
work, being much closer in character to a highly complicated mode than to the
subject of a fugue, which keeps its own particular rhythm as well as its melodic
outline.
23

In addition to shedding light on both how and why Martin adapted certain elements of
twelve-tone technique to his own work, this passage also reflects the degree of latitude he
allowed himself in doing so, showing a complete lack of compunction for “violating a
fundamental rule for a clearly defined aesthetic purpose.” In the course of his early
experiments with dodecaphony, Martin came to understand that he could not cultivate a
uniquely personal idiom through blind adherence to a set of dogmatic principles he
considered both excessively rigid and arbitrary. Nevertheless, he found in those very
principles exactly what he needed: a means of simultaneously expanding and organizing
his own tonal palette.

Compositional Maturity (1938-1974)
In 1938, Martin received a commission from Robert Blum, the director of the
Zürcher Madrigalchor, for a work of a half-hour's duration for twelve solo voices with
instrumental accompaniment. To fulfill this commission, Martin set to music a single
chapter of Joseph Bédier's novel Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, a modern French
adaptation of the medieval legend of Tristan and Isolde. The result, which Martin titled
Le Vin Herbé ("The Herbed Wine") is widely considered to be the work through which
he first gave full expression to his mature style, reconciling the "enrichment" afforded by
Schoenberg's 12-tone system with his own personal need to retain certain elements of

23
Ibid., 17.
21
tonality. Following the first performance of Le Vin Herbé in 1940, Martin decided to
expand the work into a three-act secular oratorio, which he completed the following year.
Around this same time, Martin lost both his wife, who died suddenly from an intestinal
occlusion, and his job, due to the closing of the Technicum Moderne de Musique (largely
for financial reasons). The passing of Irène had a particularly profound emotional impact
on Martin, and for the next decade he sought a kind of reconciliation with death through
his music, as he later explained in a letter to Jean-Claude Piguet:
For ten years, between ages 50 and 60, after having lost my wife, I felt... how
would you say? ... in friendship with death. And all the texts I set to music during
that time were related to it: Le Vin Herbé, the Monologues de Jedermann, the
Cornet of Rilke, Golgotha, and particularly Ein Totentanz zu Basel, in which it
was a constant presence.
24

By the time he finished the complete version of Le Vin Herbé, however, Martin
had both resumed his employment at the Geneva Conservatory, and once again
remarried, this time to a flutist and one of his former students at the Technicum Moderne
de Musique, named Maria Boeke. Maria would prove an invaluable partner to Martin
throughout the remainder of his life, both personally and professionally, as Bernard
explains:
Maria Martin would henceforth be the invaluable collaborator of her husband.
She had a complete musical background (piano, flute, composition, conducting).
This would enable her to become the first critic of his works in the course of their
composition. Her linguistic knowledge would allow her to show the composer all

24
"Pendant une dizaine d'années, entre 50 et 60 ans, après avoir perdu ma femme,
je me suis senti...comment dire? ... en amitié avec la mort. Et tous les textes que j'ai mis
en musique à ce moment-là, étaient en rapport avec elle: le Vin Herbé, les Monologues de
Jedermann, le Cornet de Rilke, Golgotha, plus Ein Totentanz zu Basel où elle était sans
cesse présente." Frank Martin, Correspondance Frank Martin—J.-Claude Piguet (1965-
1974) (Neuchâtel: A la Baconnière, 1967), 5 (author's translation).
22
the subtleties of the German language and its accentuation. It was she who would
organize the trips that would promote Frank Martin's growing global reputation.
She thus allowed him to devote himself entirely to his work as a composer.
25

Martin had two more children with Maria, Jan Frank (1946) and Anne Thérèse (1949).
Around the same time he was working on Le Vin Herbé, Martin also wrote the
Ballade pour saxophone alto, orchestre à cordes, piano et batterie, a work commissioned
by the famous German-born American saxophonist Sigurd Raschèr. Four more
"ballades" featuring solo instruments followed soon thereafter, including two for flute
(1938 & 1939),
26
and one each for piano (1939) and trombone (1940); two others would
follow years later, for cello (1949) and viola (1972). These works, free in form and
written in a somewhat more conservative style than Le Vin Herbé, served the composer
essentially as technical studies of their respective instruments. Through them, Martin
sought to discover and exploit each instrument's particular "character", as well as its

25
"Maria Martin sera dorénavant la précieuse collaboratrice de son mari. Elle a
fait des études musicales complètes (piano, flûte, composition, direction). Cela lui
permettra de devenir la première critique des oeuvres en cours de composition. Son
savoir linguistique lui donnera d'indiquer au compositeur toutes les finesses de la langue
allemande et de son accentuation. C'est elle qui organisera les voyages qui vaudront à
Frank Martin sa notoriété mondiale croissante. Elle lui permettra ainsi de se vouer
entièrement à son oeuvre compositeur." Bernard Martin, La réalité du rêve, 20-21
(author's translation).

26
The earlier of these, which was discovered by Maria Martin in 2008 and
published by Universal Editions in 2009, bears the title Deuxième Ballade pour flûte et
piano ou flûte, orchestre à corde, piano et batterie, d'après la Ballade pour saxophone
alto, orchestre à cordes, piano et batterie, and indicates the date of composition as 1938.
It appears to be an adaptation of the Ballade pour saxophone, possibly owing to the
particular difficulty of that piece for saxophonists (Raschèr excelled at high notes that
many players avoid). For more information, see Konstantinos Andreou and Piet Roorda,
"Deuxième Ballade—an unknown work of Frank Martin," Polytonon 41 (July-August
2010), 42-43, http://www.konstantinosandreou.com/deuxieme-ballade-an-unknown-
work-of-frank-martin/.
23
technical capabilities—a process that in a certain respect laid the groundwork for what
would become his next monumental triumph: the Petite Symphonie Concertante (1945).
This work, in essence a triple concerto for harp, harpsichord, and piano accompanied by
double string orchestra, masterfully reconciles the diverse timbres of these three
instruments, generating an entirely new realm of sonority in the process. The first of its
two movements is essentially in sonata-allegro form, with its obligatory two themes that
are subsequently subjected to development. The second, evocative of the style of Ravel,
more freely develops a single thematic idea in the manner of a fantasia. Despite the
considerable intellectual investment evident in the piece, Martin initially considered it
somewhat trivial: "I considered this work as something peripheral, to which I did not
attribute great importance."
27
With the benefit of hindsight, however, Bernard affords us
a clearer impression of the work's importance:
If Le Vin Herbé had revealed to the musical world the mastery of an all-new
language, the Petite Symphonie represented another turning point: that of the
worldly consecration of, simultaneously with the demonstration of, the talent of a
symphonist.
28

The Petite Symphonie Concertante would receive at least twenty-five performances over
the next two years, and has continued, well into the twenty-first century, to be one of
Martin's most popular works.

27
"Je considérais cette oeuvre comme une chose périphérique, à laquelle je
n'attribuais pas une importance considérable [...]" Radio interview, quoted in Bernard
Martin, La réalité du rêve, 144 (author's translation).

28
"Si Le Vin Herbé avait révélé au monde musical la maîtrise d'un langage tout
nouveau, la Petite Symphonie représentait un autre tournant: celui de la consécration
mondiale en même temps que la démonstration du talent du symphoniste." Ibid., 148
(author's translation).
24
In the meantime, Martin also continued to write vocal and choral works, including
Der Cornet, an oratorio for alto soloist and small orchestra on a text by Rainer Maria
Rilke, and the Sechs Monologues aus Jedermann for baritone and piano. In 1944,
Martin's work on the Petite Symphonie Concertante was interrupted when the Radio-
Genève commissioned him to write a new work, to be performed in a live broadcast on
the day peace was declared. The result was In Terra Pax, an oratorio in four parts that
uses biblical texts to trace a path from mankind's suffering in the face of evil, through
hope and deliverance, to the divine peace of the "new heaven". In the spring of 1945,
inspired by Rembrandt's etching "Les Trois Croix", Martin had the idea of writing a piece
on the subject of the Passion. It would be another three years, however, before he would
complete the oratorio Golgotha. In this work, Christ's anguish, depicted through the Last
Supper and Gethsemane, similarly gives way to divine peace as Christ is brought before
the high priest and Pilate. Martin interposes reflective texts by Saint Augustine into the
narrative texts of the gospels, in much the same way that Bach used Lutheran chorales in
his Passion settings. Throughout all of these works, Martin continued to use and refine
the compositional techniques first brought to light in Le Vin Herbé.
Following the end of the Second World War, Martin began to feel that his vast
network of friends and colleagues in Geneva had become a distraction to his
compositional focus and discipline. In 1946, he moved to the Netherlands with Maria,
settling first in Bergen aan zee for a brief period before moving again to her hometown of
Amsterdam, where they would spend the next ten years. In 1950, Martin accepted a
position as Professor of Composition at the Staatliche Hochschule für Musik in Cologne,
25
a position he held until 1957, shortly after the couple settled permanently in the small
town of Naarden. At that point, Martin finally gave up teaching, choosing to focus all his
energy on the creation, promotion, and performance of his works. Some of his most
important works dating from the Amsterdam years include the Huit Préludes pour le
piano (1947-48), written for the pianist Dinu Lipatti, the Concerto pour 7 instruments à
vent, timbales, batterie et orchestre à cordes (1949), the Cinq chants d'Ariel (1950; on
texts from Shakespeare's The Tempest), the Concerto pour violon (1950-51), the Concert
pour clavecin et petit orchestre (1951-52), and the opera Der Sturm (1952-55; a full
adaptation of The Tempest). Meanwhile, Le Vin Herbé was given its first staged
performance at the 1948 Salzburg Festival, using a new German underlay supplied by the
composer (based loosely on a translation of Bédier's novel by Rudolf Binding, and no
doubt prepared with Maria's assistance). This performance was generally well received,
yet despite the oratorio's distinctly dramatic nature, opinions regarding its suitability as a
fully-staged opera have been varied—a fact that has also contributed to the inherent
difficulty in categorizing the work.
In 1956, Frank and Maria Martin moved to an English-style thatched house in
Naarden, outside of Amsterdam, surrounded by pine trees and heather. The composer's
musical creativity seemed to thrive in this secluded, natural environment, and it was there
that he would live out the remaining years of his life. His creativity never faltered until
the day he died, his final decade giving rise to such works as Les Quatre éléments (1963-
64, dedicated to Ernest Ansermet), the Cello Concerto (1965-66, for Pierre Fournier), a
String Quartet (1966-67), his Second Piano Concerto (1968, for Paul Badura-Skoda), and
26
Erasmi monumentum (1969, for organ and orchestra). Vocal works dating from these last
years include the Maria-Triptychon (1968), Poèmes de la mort (1971, for three male
voices and three electric guitars), a Requiem (1971-72), and his final work, the chamber
cantata Et la vie l'emporta (1974).
Martin's Requiem was a work that held special meaning for the composer. As it
happens, the letter to Jean-Claude Piguet (cited above) was written in response to the
suggestion that Martin should compose a Requiem. Recalling his preoccupation with
death in the years following the loss of his second wife, Martin goes on to address this
suggestion:
It was then that I should have written a Requiem. Then, or later! You fear that
this "later" will never come, and I understand because I fear it as well. Yet I have
a kind of faith that whispers in my ear (as with Haydn) that things will happen as
they should and that my life shall not end without my having written my
Requiem. And I asked myself for a few days if your submission was, in a sense,
the outward sign that I should do it. [...] The Requiem, then, should serve to
celebrate, so to speak, my 80 years, at the end of 1970. It's good to count the time
and speculate on the future!
29

On November 21, 1974, at the age of 84, Frank Martin suffered a cerebral
hemorrhage and slipped into a coma, passing away peacefully a few hours later.
30
In her

29
"C'est alors qu j'aurais dû écrire un Requiem. Alors, ou plus tard! Vous
craignez que ce 'plus tard' ne vienne pas, et je vous comprends car je le crains aussi.
Pourtant j'ai une espèce de foi qui me souffle à l'oreille (comme à Haydn) que les choses
se passeront comme elles doivent se passer et que ma vie ne se finira pas sans que j'aie
fait mon Requiem. Et je me suis demandé pendant quelques jours si votre intervention
était, en quelque sorte, le signe extérieur que j'avais à la faire. [...] Il faudrait alors que le
Requiem serve à fêter, si l'on peut dire, mes 80 ans, à la fin de 1970. C'est bien compter
avec le temps et spéculer sur l'avenir!" Martin, Correspondance, 5 (author's translation).

30
An obituary notice by Paul Griffiths, published in The Musical Times the
following January, mistakenly indicates November 20 as the date of his death.
27
memoir, Souvenirs de ma vie avec Frank Martin, his wife Maria offers the following
reflection on his passing:
I think—I hope—that Frank realized—it was only a few moments before he fell
into a coma—that he approached the encounter with death, for which he was
better prepared than anyone else. This death that he did not fear and that he had
long considered as a friend who gives us rest and final peace.
31

31
"Je pense – et j’espère – que Frank s’est rendu compte – ne fut-ce que pendant
quelques instants avant de tomber dans le coma – qu'il approchait de cette rencontre avec
la Mort, pour laquelle il était mieux préparé que quiconque. Cette mort qu’il ne craignait
pas et qu’il considérait depuis longtemps comme une amie qui nous donne le repos et la
paix finals." Maria Martin, Souvenirs de ma vie avec Frank Martin (Lausanne: L'age
d'homme, 1990), 272 (author's translation).
28

CHAPTER 3: THE TRISTAN LEGEND

As a musical drama, Le Vin Herbé aims first and foremost to tell a story, and
Martin’s music, though certainly admirable in its own right, serves primarily to enhance
the telling of that story. To fully appreciate Martin’s composition, then, we must first
understand the story that is being told. On its surface, Le Vin Herbé recounts a well-
known tale involving two ill-fated lovers, Tristan and Iseut, who drink a magic potion
and fall helplessly in love—a love that ultimately brings about their tragic demise. It is a
story that has been told and retold, in various guises, for centuries. In this chapter we will
examine the origins and evolution of the so-called “Tristan legend” in order to position
Martin’s textual source, Joseph Bédier’s Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, in relation to this
rather extensive literary corpus. In so doing, we also hope to shed some light on the
factors that drew Martin to this novel in particular as a source for his libretto.
As numerous authors have published synopses of the Tristan legend outlining the
common elements shared by its earliest textual sources, we will dispense with doing so
here. What is more instructive to our present study, however, is to identify the structure
of the work in terms of its dramatic form, which consists of the following sequence of
29
essential narrative elements: 1) the establishment of Tristan's strong moral character, and
of the bond of love and kinship that unites Tristan and his uncle Mark; 2) the "surrogate
bridequest" by which Tristan, out of love for his uncle, wins Iseut on Mark's behalf; 3)
the accidental ingestion of the love potion by Tristan and Iseut; 4) the lovers' subversion
of social and moral law as a result of their mutual desire, in the form of various trysts and
deceits, resulting in their persecution and ultimate exile; 5) the complete liberation of the
lovers' passion, and the suffering it causes them; 6) the lovers' return from exile and
attempt to reconcile with social law, which results in their separation, causing further
suffering; and 7) the lovers' death.
Joseph Bédier was himself one of the foremost scholars of medieval French
literature during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Underlying his
immensely successful novel was an intimate familiarity with the Tristan story and its
history, informed by a thorough study of the earliest extant versions. In an article
published in The International Quarterly in 1904, Bédier summed up his own
understanding of the essence of the legend as follows:
What are Tristan and Isolt? They are lovers who drank a philtre and, held captive
by its power, suffered the fatality of this love against their will. The bitter conflict
of love and law; this is the whole of the legend.
1

For centuries, this tale has been inexorably woven into the fabric of European literary
culture. Its enduring appeal springs not only from its clear, universal themes, but also
from its plasticity. As with most stories that have stood the test of time, it has not simply

1
Joseph Bédier, "The Legend of Tristan and Isolt", trans. Susan Hilles Taber,
International Quarterly 9 (March-June 1904), 110.
30
been passed wholesale from one generation to another, but rather, as it has moved
through both time and place it has been subject to various accretions, interpolations, and
modifications. This evolutionary process has resulted on the one hand from the particular
artistic tastes and aesthetic aims of its numerous authors and redactors, and on the other,
from the different needs and expectations of a changing audience.
Of the various versions of the Tristan legend committed to paper by medieval
authors, scholars have identified two main branches, widely referred to as the "vulgar" or
"common" (version commune) and the "courtly" (version courtoise) traditions. Although
some have challenged this dualistic conception of the story's development,
2
it has
nevertheless had a deep and lasting influence on Tristan scholarship. The general
consensus is that the version courtoise reflects certain modifications to the legend,
introduced in an effort to make the story more relevant and appropriate to the court
culture of medieval Continental Europe, while the version commune reflects a more
original, unadulterated version.
3
The question of precisely what this "original" version
may have been, however, or indeed whether one even existed, continues to be a source of
heated debate and broad speculation.

The Origins of the Tristan Legend
The earliest extant literary sources of the Tristan legend consist of two twelfth-
century Anglo-Norman verse romances, composed by Béroul and Thomas d'Angleterre,

2
See, for example, Joan Tasker Grimbert, ed., Tristan and Isolde: A Casebook
(New York: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1995), xxvii.

3
Ibid., xvii.
31
representing the version commune and the version courtoise, respectively. Unfortunately,
however, both of these verse settings are incomplete. Of Thomas's version only eight
small fragments survive, constituting about one sixth of the original poem, while of
Béroul's there exists only a single manuscript, of which the beginning and ending
sections are lost. For the complete story, we must therefore resort to slightly later
retellings—in particular, a late twelfth-century treatment in Middle High German of the
version commune by Eilhart von Oberge, and a free adaptation of Thomas's version
courtoise, translated into Old Norse by one Brother Róbert in 1226. A slightly earlier
German adaptation of Thomas's version, executed by Gottfried von Strassburg around
1210, remained unfinished at the author's death, but rather fortuitously, the extant
fragments of Thomas's version pick up just before the point in the story where Gottfried's
leaves off. Two additional twelfth-century manuscripts recounting a single episode of the
legend, the Folie Tristan, offer additional insights into the tale's development. One,
found in Berne, is based on Béroul's version commune—the other, found in Oxford, on
Thomas's version courtoise. Together with the so-called “Prose Tristan”, a rather
expanded thirteenth-century French prose setting of the legend, this handful of medieval
sources constitutes the nucleus of primary sources on which virtually all subsequent
adaptations of the Tristan legend have been based.
While the romances of Béroul and Thomas provide the earliest sources of the
Tristan legend as we know it, many of the various characters, elements, and motifs
contained in the legend are known to have existed prior to the twelfth century. Some of
the earliest references to Tristan, Iseut, and Mark are found in the Welsh triads—
32
essentially mnemonic devices used by Welsh bards of the eleventh and twelfth
centuries—which describe a "Drystan, son of Tallwch," who loved the wife of his uncle,
King Mark, and who is variously identified as a great warrior, a lover, and a trickster.
4

To many, this was considered evidence that the story's origins were insular to the British
Isles, but that view was later drawn into question, presumably due to the difficulty in
dating the source of the Welsh material with any certainty. Scholars have also identified
themes or ideas analogous to elements of the Tristan legend in numerous Irish tales of the
ninth and tenth centuries—most notably Toruigheacht Dhiarmuda agus Ghrainne ("The
Pursuit after Diarmaid and Gráinne") and Tochmarc Emire ("The Wooing of Emer")—
suggesting that these, together with the Tristan legend, may perhaps have descended from
an earlier, pan-Celtic mythological corpus.
5

Tristan and Arthur
At some point prior to the thirteenth century, the tale of Tristan became
intertwined with the "Arthuriad", the extensive corpus of lore surrounding the figure of
King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Although there is already evidence of
such a connection in Welsh sources that could date from the eleventh century or earlier,
6

4
Sigmund Eisner, The Tristan Legend: A Study in Sources (Evanston, IL:
Northwestern University Press, 1969), 45.

5
Links between the Tristan legend and analogues in Irish folklore have been
explored in particular depth by Schoepperle and Eisner.

6
See Eisner, The Tristan Legend, 5-6, as well as Edward Tyrrell Leith, On the
Legend of Tristan: Its Origin in Myth and Its Development in Romance (Bombay:
Education Society's Press, 1868), 10.
33
when and where the two strands of folklore first merged is not known. In any case, the
relationship between these two figures is extensively developed in the Prose Tristan of
the thirteenth century, and later in Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, first
published in 1485. The latter, which is based largely on the former, had such a strong
influence in shaping the popular understanding of Arthurian lore that it continues to
influence modern retellings even to the present day. The noted Tristan scholar Sigmund
Eisner went so far as to claim, "The Tristan story is and always has been an Arthurian
tale,"
7
and while this may be overstating the point, the fact of a strong connection
between the two strands of legend is undeniable. For this reason, understanding the
lineage of the Arthurian tales may offer some clues as to the origins and development of
the Tristan story as well. While the original Arthurian tales are acknowledged to be of
Welsh origin, the tales as found in Malory are likely influenced by many different
mythologies: Welsh, Irish, pan-Celtic, and perhaps even Roman and Greek.
8
This
influence could have occurred during the "indigenous" (i.e. Celtic) phase of development,
but more likely much of it was due to the influence of the French conteurs, who were
primarily responsible for the transmission and popularization of the tales on the
Continent.
As in the case of Arthur, it has been suggested that the legendary character of
Tristan may have been based on a real person, and that the historical figures of Arthur
and Tristan may even have been contemporaries. In fact, this view was taken virtually

7
Eisner, The Tristan Legend, 19.

8
Ibid., 32.
34
for granted during the Celtic Revival of the late eighteenth century. Specifically, it is
believed that the "Drystan, son of Tallwch" mentioned in the Welsh triads is likely a
derivation of the Pictish "Drust, son of Talorc," which could refer to any of several
recorded personages of the sixth through eighth centuries.
9
Some have identified a
particular Pictish Drust who died in 780 as the "historical” Tristan, while others believe
the legendary character to have been based on an earlier, unrecorded figure from the sixth
century.
10
In any case, the idea that the Tristan of legend may be based on an actual,
historical person has yet to be either confirmed or refuted with any certainty.
An alternative possibility is that, rather than drawing on actual historical figures,
the Celtic stories are instead purely mythological in origin, and may even have been
influenced by still earlier foreign mythologies such as those of the Greeks, Arabs,
Persians, Egyptians, and Phoenicians. Devices and scenarios strikingly similar to those
of the Tristan story have been identified in such diverse mythologies as the Greek myth
of Theseus,
11
the Persian myth of Wîs and Râmîn,
12
and the Vedic myth of Trita Âptya,
13

to name only a few. While some scholars have offered numerous theories as to how
these remote myths might have infiltrated the Celtic lore, others have dismissed them as

9
This derivation was first purported by Zimmer in 1891; see Rosemary Picozzi, A
History of Tristan Scholarship (Berne: Herbert Lang & Co., Ltd., 1971), 31, as well as
Eisner, The Tristan Legend, 47.

10
Eisner, The Tristan Legend, 53-54.

11
Ibid., 111, 122, 126, etc.

12
Grimbert, Tristan and Isolde, xvi.

13
Leith, On the Legend of Tristan, 28.
35
"far-fetched" and "the utmost wildness of hypothesis".
14
In any case, when one considers
the complex relationships that exist between myth, history, and folklore, it is likely that
any number of influences may have contributed in small or large part to the early
development of the story and its various constituent elements.

Transmission
Quite apart from the legend's origins, another controversial question in Tristan
scholarship is the issue of precisely how and when the story came to be transmitted from
the British Isles to the Continent, and ultimately compiled in the various complete
versions of the twelfth-century manuscripts. As part of the matière de Bretagne,
15
the
Tristan lore was transmitted across the channel to the Continent, along with the more
substantial Arthurian lore, at some point prior to the twelfth century, either by the Anglo-
Normans, the Welsh, or most likely, the Armorican Celts inhabiting the region of
Brittany. One theory popular in the nineteenth century, the Liedertheorie, held that the
Celtic oral tradition concerning Tristan was created piecemeal, in discrete episodes,
which were disseminated in the form of lais by medieval jongleurs, and later linked
together into the cohesive legend given in the medieval sources. On which side of the
channel this process of compilation occurred, and at whose hand, remained a subject of

14
Picozzi, Tristan Scholarship, 19-20.

15
The term matière de Bretagne, coined by the 12
th
-century French poet Jean
Bodel, refers generally to the legendary history of Britain as contained in the substantial
body of lore concerning Arthur and his circle, as well as the Tristan legend and various
other pseudo-historical materials extant in medieval France. Bodel used the term to
distinguish the lore believed to be of British origin from the matière de France and the
matière de Rome.
36
disagreement. Friedrich Ranke has asserted that the legend was formed from two
separate stories of Irish origin—the imram (lone voyage) and the aithed (elopement
story)—an idea later supported by Arthur Witte on the basis of the story's structure, as
well as by Bodo Mergell on the basis of cultural Zeitgeist.
16
More recently, however, this
Liedertheorie has been drawn into question, primarily in light of certain perceived
aspects of formal unity in the romances, and many scholars now believe that the
"complete" legend, as we now understand it and as reflected in the medieval sources, was
primarily the work of a single author.
The notion of an archetypal Ur-Tristan by a single author, a work that is now lost
but from which some or all of the various medieval sources (i.e. Thomas, Béroul, Eilhart,
the Prose Tristan, and the two versions of the Folie Tristan) were derived, has been
steadily gaining ground for over a century. Eisner has dubbed it the Drustansaga,
ascribing it to a Northern British monk who lived sometime between the sixth and eighth
centuries; Schoepperle refers to it as the estoire and considers it the basis for all the
medieval verse settings; Loth believed it was written in Cornwall in the English language,
while others considered it to have been written in any of several various dialects of
French. Bédier himself was one of the early proponents of this theory, and also one of
the first to attempt to reconstruct the framework of what he called the poéme primitif.
17

(The result of his efforts was published in 1905, five years after the completion of his
own version of the legend.)

16
Picozzi, Tristan Scholarship, 49-52.

17
Ibid., 40.
37

Later redactions
While the development of the Tristan story prior to the medieval redactions
remains somewhat occluded, its evolution thereafter can more easily be traced. The
thirteenth-century Prose Tristan, spuriously ascribed to Luces de Gat and Hélie de Boron,
was particularly influential, weaving the Tristan strand even more thoroughly into the
now extensive tapestry of Arthurian lore. This account would serve as the basis for
several later medieval versions in Spain and Italy, as well as Sir Thomas Malory's highly
influential Le Morte d'Arthur of 1485. A slightly earlier English romance, Sir Tristrem
(falsely attributed to Thomas of Erceldoune), followed more closely to Thomas's version.
In Germany, the immense success of Gottfried's unfinished poem gave rise to two
thirteenth-century completions, by Ulrich von Türheim and Heinrich von Freiburg, both
also drawing heavily on Eilhart. Meanwhile, Brother Róbert's Tristrams saga prompted a
number of retellings in Scandinavia.
During the Renaissance, medieval romance in general suffered a decline in
popularity, due mainly to its being perceived as a "low art" form.
18
By the late eighteenth
and early nineteenth centuries, however, poets and artists turned once again toward the
Middle Ages, recalling and romanticizing them in an often idyllic light. The
Enlightenment also witnessed a rise in scholarship with the publication of various
editions, summaries, and modern translations of medieval manuscripts. In Germany and
Scandinavia, unlike other parts of Europe, the Tristan legend developed largely

18
Grimbert, Tristan and Isolde, xlix.
38
independently of the Arthuriad, and it was here that the most decisive revival of the
legend took place in the form of Wagner's opera Tristan und Isolde. This epic music-
drama, first performed in 1865, presented a highly simplified and romanticized
adaptation (based loosely on Gottfried's version of the legend), focusing primarily on the
intense emotions and psychological development of the characters. Bearing the indelible
imprint of German Romanticism in general, and the influence of Schopenhauer in
particular, Wagner's fairly free adaptation of the legend quickly became the primary
means by which audiences throughout Europe and the world became acquainted with the
story. The impact of Wagner's re-fashioning of the story was palpable, even in France—
not only among the public, but also on other artists, writers, and poets, including
Baudelaire, Mallarmé, and Verlaine—an impact that continues to have repercussions
even today, as Grimbert attests:
The combined influence of Wagner and these poets no doubt accounts for the
tendency of many modern French authors to spiritualize the legend, to see the
lover's inexorable itinerary in life toward death principally as a quest for
transcendence.
19

It is against the backdrop of Wagner's immensely popular drama that Bédier's romance
must therefore be considered.

Wagner and Bédier
Wagner's influence on the general public's understanding of the Tristan legend
was mitigated only slightly by the increasing number of scholars who continued to probe

19
Ibid., lxv.
39
into earlier versions of the tale. In the late 1830s, the Old French versions of Béroul and
Thomas were unearthed and published by Francisque Michel, along with a preface
recapping the history of Tristan scholarship up to that point. These publications afforded
Bédier ready access to various medieval texts, which served as a basis for his own 1900
novelistic retelling of the story. His Roman de Tristan et Iseut has been widely acclaimed
as "an attempt to reconstruct for the general public a version of the legend that would
approximate the archetype (estoire)",
20
although it is unclear whether this was in fact his
intention.
21
Bédier offers some insight into his aims in a prefatory note to the romance:
As Mr. G[aston] Paris has all too kindly stated, I have tried to avoid all
juxtaposition of the old and new. To eliminate the disparities, the anachronisms,
the tawdriness; to verify the vetusta scribenti nescio quo pacto antiquus fit
animus; to avoid, by means of historical and critical sympathy, mixing our
modern conceptions with old forms of thinking and feeling, this was my intention,
my effort, and doubtless—alas!—my chimera. But my text is very composite...
22

The clear implication here is that Bédier was disposed toward the "older ways" of
thinking and feeling, as reflected in the medieval sources. At a time when philological

20
Ibid., lxvi.

21
Five years later, Bédier made a concerted effort to do exactly that—reconstruct
the framework of what he believed to be the lost archetypal version of the legend,
including a table of concordances. Edward Gallagher notes that as yet, no serious efforts
have been made to determine the relationship between the romance of 1900 and the
reconstruction of 1905 ("'This too you ought to read': Bédier's Roman de Tristan et Iseut"
in Grimbert, Tristan and Isolde, 429).

22
"Comme M. G. Paris l'a trop bienveillamment exposé, j'ai tàché d'éviter tout
mélange de l'ancien et du moderne. Écarter les disparates, les anachronismes, le
clinquant, vérifier le vetusta scribenti nescio quo pacto antiquus fit animus, obtenir sur
soi-même, à force de sympathie historique et critique, de ne jamais méler nos conceptions
modernes aux antiques formes de penser et de sentir, tel a été mon dessein, mon effort, et
sans doute, hélas! ma chimère. Mais mon texte est très composite..." Joseph Bédier,
preface to Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, 24
th
ed. (Paris: H. Piazza et cie., n.d.), 17-18
(author's translation).
40
interest in those sources was making a resurgence (in which Bédier himself played a
leading role), and hard on the heels of the increasingly "romanticized" adaptations of the
nineteenth century, one therefore is tempted to perceive something of a reactionary
motivation behind his Roman. Whether or not such a conscious motivation existed, in
light of the profound impact of Wagner's Tristan on the mainstream public's view of the
legend, it will be useful to take note of some of the specific ways in which Wagner's and
Bédier's treatments of the story differ.
First, it must be noted that for Wagner (as for Martin), the crafting of a dramatic
musical setting required him to simplify and shorten the story considerably. Wagner's
story begins aboard the ship bound for Cornwall, the preceding events of the legend
being relegated largely to brief expository reminiscences by the characters. In the
medieval sources the lovers' period of exile, representing the fully liberated expression of
their mutual passion, lasts several years; in Wagner's opera, this component of the story is
condensed into a single, intense tryst lasting only one night. Virtually all of the various
episodes that serve in the medieval romances to illustrate the progression of the lovers'
suffering and their resourcefulness in reconciling their passion with their social standing
are omitted, in favor of an emphasis on the lovers' inner emotions.
Unlike Bédier, whose conception of the story relied primarily on the texts of
Béroul, Thomas, and Eilhart, Wagner based his own reading mainly on the version by
Gottfried, whose liberal adaptation of Thomas's version is particularly infused with
humanist ideals, Christian elements, and an emphasis on the lovers' indulgence of what
41
has been termed an "anti-social" passion.
23
In a letter to Franz Liszt in 1854, Wagner
expressed his intentions for the opera:
But since I have never in my life enjoyed the true happiness of love, I intend to
erect a further monument to this most beautiful of dreams, a monument in which
this love will be properly sated from beginning to end...
24

Rather than depicting the lovers' demise as the inevitable and tragic consequence of the
"bitter conflict of love and law", Wagner paints it as a moment of transcendence,
representing the ultimate fulfillment of their all-consuming desire. Wagner's particular
take on the legend has been widely interpreted as a profound expression of German
Romantic philosophy:
What he found in Gottfried's poem was primarily a passion so strong and
compelling that it gave rise to a yearning (Lust) to be transported out of the
material world into a spiritual realm, which alone could ultimately offer peace.
Following the poet Novalis, Wagner identified this realm with Night and Death
and infused it with the Schopenhauerian notion of the renunciation of the Will,
"the final negation of the desire for life," which he modified in accordance with
his conviction that salvation could be achieved through love.
25

Joseph Kerman has also identified veiled religious overtones in Wagner's conception of
transfiguration (Verklärung):
...love [to Wagner] is not merely an urgent force in life, but the compelling higher
reality of our spiritual universe. The essential action of the opera is that the lovers
are drawn more and more powerfully to perceive this reality and submit to it. In
their vision of this reality, all the appurtenances of ordinary existence are
sloughed off: subsidiary feelings, convention, personality, reason, and even life

23
Grimbert, Tristan and Isolde, xxvi.

24
Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington, eds., Selected Letters of Richard
Wagner (New York: W.W. Norton, 1988), 323.

25
Grimbert, Tristan and Isolde, lvi.
42
itself. If this is not to be called a religious experience, it is hard to know what
meaning to attach to the term....
26

The inner "conflict of love and law" that provides the dramatic impetus in the medieval
romances is virtually absent in Wagner's opera; what little of it does obtain is gradually
overshadowed by the lovers' idealized passion. As a result, the moral ambiguity of their
love is negated, and they are essentially absolved of any responsibility for their actions.
The lovers' unimpeachable moral standing is confirmed in the final scene when Mark
indicates that, having learned of the potion's influence on the lovers, even he holds them
blameless, proclaiming, "Having been enlightened to what I previously could not believe,
how happy that I have found my friend free from guilt!"
27

In returning to the medieval models, Bédier retains the lovers' internal moral
conflict as a crucial factor in the unfolding of the drama. The lovers of the medieval
romances struggle against their own desires and the power of the philtre, even as they
struggle against society in their efforts to be together. Whereas the main motivator for
Wagner's lovers is the painful yearning that results from their separation, the lovers of the
medieval romances are motivated by the tension between the two opposing forces of
amorous desire and social convention—a struggle that ultimately proves both futile and
fatal. As a result, many consider Wagner's ending to be a triumph rather than a tragedy,
in spite of the lovers' demise. Kerman asserts, "The fundamental rhythm of the piece is

26
Joseph Kerman, "Wagner's Tristan und Isolde: Opera as Symphonic Poem," in
Grimbert, Tristan and Isolde, 360.

27
"Da hell mir enthüllt, was zuvor ich nicht fassen konnt', wie selig, dass den
Freund ich frei von Schuld da fand!" (author's translation).
43
towards Tristan's conversion and the concluding 'Liebestod' of Isolde—a triumphant
ascent, not a tragic catastrophe."
28
Likewise, Müller points to Wagner's glorification of
the couple as being in stark contrast to the medieval tradition:
The medieval tale depicts the tragic failure of the couple in the world, while
Wagner glorifies the couple (in a seductive and dangerous manner, through music
of calculated ecstasy) through an escape from the world, which leads to a "mystic
union" between love and death.
29

This association between love and death in the Tristan story is not, however, a
Wagnerian invention, as Müller seems to suggest. In fact, Curtis has shown
30
that of the
five earliest medieval sources, four of them establish such a connection more than once,
of which at least three do so at the very moment the lovers drink the potion. (Thomas's
account, of which the extant fragments pick up the story only later, also includes several
explicit associations of this nature.) Only Béroul appears to eschew such a link, choosing
instead to focus on drawing a connection between the potion and the lovers' suffering.
Curtis cites this as evidence that the association of love and death stems, in fact, from the
original archetypal version of the romance, whatever that may be. Bédier would seem to
agree, or at the very least to appreciate this link as an integral part of the story, since he

28
Kerman, "Wagner's Tristan," 359.

29
"L'histoire médiévale montre l'échec tragique du couple dans le monde, tandis
que Wagner glorifie le couple (d'une manière séduisante et dangereuse par une musique
de l'extase calculée) par une fuite face à ce monde qui conduit à une "unio mystica" entre
l'amour et la mort." Ulrich Müller, "Le Debat sur 'Tristan,'" in Danielle Buschinger, ed.,
La légende de Tristan au moyen âge, actes du colloque des 16 et 17 janvier 1982,
Université de Picardie, Centre d'études médiévales (Göppingen: Kümmerle, 1982), 122
(author's translation).

30
Renée Curtis, Tristan Studies (Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1969), 36-41.
44
included no fewer than seven such references in his own version (all of which, it so
happens, are found in the portions set by Martin in Le Vin Herbé). The main difference is
that in Wagner's opera, death is virtually glorified as a release from the torment of
yearning, whereas in Bédier's novel, it recurs as a portentous image of the philtre's
inevitable consequence.

"Hélas! ma chimère": Bédier's Roman
Having established something of a context for Bédier's novel, we now return to
the fundamental question posed in this chapter: given his intimate knowledge of the
various medieval sources, and in light of the inevitable backdrop of Wagner's immensely
popular version of the story, what did Bédier himself bring to the legend with his own
1900 retelling, and what factors might have accounted for its appeal to Frank Martin in
1938 as a dramatic musical text? In addressing this question, let us return to Bédier's
own prefatory remarks to his Roman (quoted above). It is interesting to note that he
defines his aims not so much in terms of what he hopes to achieve, as by what he hopes
to avoid (éviter) or to eliminate (écarter), suggesting that for him, the process of
redaction—or at least, the intent behind it—is perhaps more reductive than constructive.
While he makes no specific mention of Wagner's retelling of the legend (or any other), it
must be presumed that he was at least familiar with that particular re-fashioning, and
again, one may speculate as to whether those prefatory remarks reflect a reactionary
impulse. In any case, even in deferring as much as possible to the authority of the
medieval texts, Bédier faced many critical narrative decisions in constructing his own
45
version of the romance. While the basic framework of the story is fairly consistent
among the medieval sources, it is in the places where they differ, and the ways Bédier
responds to those variations, that his own personal views regarding the Tristan legend—
views of an aesthetic rather than a scholarly nature—come into focus.
In an essay bearing the title "'This too you ought to read': Bédier's Roman de
Tristan et Iseut", Edward Gallagher offers an insightful look at the factors that
contributed to the novel's critical and popular success. His study concludes with the
following summation:
Bédier intended, with the Roman de Tristan et Iseut, to fill a void caused by the
ravages of time which had left extant no complete French verse version of the
legend of Tristan and Iseut. That that void was filled, is an achievement of the
highest significance.
31

Aside from his implicit misrepresentation of the Roman as a "verse version of the legend"
(presumably a simple misstatement), Gallagher's assessment of the chief significance of
Bédier's novel affords an excellent point of departure for our examination of its intrinsic
qualities as a work of literature, as well as for speculative inquiry regarding its particular
attraction for Frank Martin. In achieving the goal outlined by Gallagher, Bédier faced
two main challenges: first, that of amalgamating his various disparate (if not
incompatible)
32
medieval sources into an ostensibly unified literary work; and second,
that of balancing a faithful adherence to "the legend of Tristan in the oldest form it has

31
Gallagher, "Bédier's Roman," 450.

32
Wolfgang Golther, a contemporary critic of Bédier's Roman, asserts that the
novel lacks the unity to which it aspires, a fact Golther attributes to its incompatible
sources ("unvereinbaren Verlagen"). (Ibid., 429.)
46
assumed"
33
against the desire to present it in a modern light, to a largely non-academic
modern audience—and furthermore, to do so in a way that avoids "all commingling of
the old and the new".
34

An ancient legend renewed
Let us first examine Bédier's efforts in regard to the second challenge—that of the
organic integration of old and new, demanding reconciliation between Bédier the artist
and Bédier the scholar. One of the most immediately evident characteristics of his text,
and one that must certainly have captured the aural imagination of Martin, is the unique
style of its prose. Though essentially written in modern French, Bédier's Roman employs
a stylized, somewhat archaic approach to language in order to preserve what Jacqueline
Schaefer refers to as "mythopoeic distance".
35
As Schaefer has noted, such "archaizing"
contributes little to the historical authenticity of either the characters or the content,
particularly if one accepts the hypothesis of the myth's Celtic origins; rather, it serves
more generally to bring about a kind of "linguistic dépaysement" in the reader.
36
As

33
"la légende de Tristan sous la forme la plus ancienne qu'elle ait prise" Gaston
Paris, préface to Joseph Bédier, Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, iii, quoted in Gallagher,
"Bédier's Roman," 427.

34
"tout mélange de l'ancien et du moderne" See Bédier's prefatory note, quoted
above.

35
Jacqueline T. Schaefer, "The French Modern Prose Remaniements of Tristan,"
in Arturus Rex: Acta Conventus Lovaniensis (Leuven, Belgium: Leuven University Press,
1991), 472.

36
Ibid. The term dépaysement literally means 'expatriation', and here refers to a
kind of nostalgic disorientation akin to 'homesickness'.
47
Grimbert puts it, "His flair for prose enabled him to combine characteristics of Béroul's
style with modern 'novelistic' elements in order to tell a story that would at once seem
remote in time and be comprehensible to modern readers."
37

One of the most salient examples of this is Bédier's use of authorial interpolations,
a device by which he breaks through the "fourth wall" at various points in the story and
addresses his reader directly. By also opening and closing his novel with this technique,
he establishes a kind of "frame" around the story (which Martin would later adopt as his
Prologue and Epilogue). This technique is not of Bédier's invention—rather, it is taken
directly from the medieval sources themselves, whose authors frequently interrupt the
story in order to comment on the action, posit an emotional response, or emphasize a
particular thematic or motivic element. The effect of these "asides" is to pull the reader
momentarily out of the story, calling attention both to the frame within which it takes
place, and to the storyteller himself, who acts as a kind of self-appointed liaison between
the characters and the listener. In this manner, Bédier the novelist takes on the guise of a
medieval conteur or troubadour, thereby giving his text at least the semblance of
historical authenticity.

Structural unity and the 'law of logical progression'
In addition to this challenge of faithfully presenting an ancient text in modern
clothes, Bédier also faced the somewhat daunting task of producing a unified work from
several different sources. That he did not take this challenge lightly is clearly evidenced

37
Grimbert, Tristan and Isolde, lxvi.
48
by his own view of the legend's genesis. In his International Quarterly article of 1904,
Bédier's central argument is that the legend as we know it cannot represent a mere
compilation of disjunct episodic threads, but rather that its holistic, integrated dramatic
structure reflects the work of a single author. In defense of this, he examines the legend
from the moment the lovers drink the potion until their death:
Now, if we look carefully at this scenario, we are struck by its inward logic, by
the harmony of its organic structure. It is not, as the theory of "lays" and
"compilations" sought to prove, a series of episodes whose order we may arrange
and rearrange, at pleasure, as we may do without injury to the stories of the
knightly deeds of Gawain or Lancelot in the romances of chivalry. Rather, it is a
work of the conscious creative will, in which the unity of creation is superbly
shown. This unity of creation shows itself first in what constitutes the scenario,
the harmonious series of combinations which lead the two central figures from
one vicissitude to another, according to a law of logical progression.
38

To Bédier, this "unity of creation" is not merely evidence of the existence of an
archetypal Tristan by a single author; it is the only logical explanation for "the harmony
of its organic structure"—a trait Bédier himself appears to consider a fundamentally
indispensable component of the legend's artistic and dramatic effectiveness. He goes on
to explain this "law of logical progression" in terms of the carefully and methodically
graduated degrees of suffering endured by the lovers, which he enumerates as remorse,
public shame, exile, separation, jealousy, and finally, death. Additionally, Bédier notes
that these degrees of suffering are cumulative, in the sense that in each new phase, the
lovers also continue to endure all the trials of each previous phase. From this conception
emerges a clear picture of Bédier's essential view of the legend as a constant, fatalistic

38
Bédier, "The Legend of Tristan and Isolt," 116.
49
dramatic descent, leading inevitably from the lovers' ingestion of the philtre to their
death.
Bédier further demonstrates that the entirety of this dramatic conceptualization of
the legend, driven by the "bitter conflict of love and law", hangs on the characteristically
medieval notion that the ultimate test of the lovers' culpability is not human, but divine.
Much of the dramatic strength and enduring appeal of the legend rely upon on the idea
that the power exerted on the lovers by the magic philtre gives rise to a situation that is
morally ambiguous. While the adulterers have clearly broken the human social bonds of
loyalty and marriage, as well as the laws of Rome, what is less certain is whether their
actions are to be considered sinful—that being the ultimate barometer of morality in the
medieval world. Tristan himself is keenly aware of this fact, as the vindication he seeks
is not so much Mark's, but rather God's. As Bédier notes, "It is judgment, indeed, not
pardon that Tristan ceaselessly demands."
39
Specifically, Tristan calls for a judiciary
duel, a medieval custom in which a defendant wages combat against any who contest his
innocence, the assumption being that God will defend the innocent. By this time, Tristan
already has cause to believe—or at least, to profess—that God is on his side, having
ascribed both his own escape and his success in saving Iseut to miracles of divine
intervention. Eventually, Mark too is persuaded that only divine judgment can resolve
the situation and arranges for such a trial by combat; however, due to Tristan's physical
prowess and formidable skill, and perhaps also the fear that he may indeed be under

39
Ibid., 125.
50
God's protection, none dares to accept his challenge. Thus, his ultimate (i.e. divine)
exoneration remains speculative and unproven.
In order to help his modern reader understand this custom in its proper context,
Bédier once again avails himself of a kind of narrative intervention:
But he [Tristan] had faith in God, and knew that none would dare take up arms
against him on the battlefield. And certainly he trusted in God rightly. When he
swore that he had never loved the queen with a guilty love, the felons laughed at
the insolent fraud. But I implore you, my lords, you who know the truth of the
philtre drunk at sea, and who understand: did he lie? It is not the fact that proves
the crime, but the judgment. Men see the fact, but God sees the heart, and He
alone is its true judge. He therefore established that any accused person could
uphold his rights in battle, and God himself would fight with the innocent. This is
why Tristan demanded justice in battle, and took care to remain in good standing
with King Marc.
40

Here Bédier's own moral interpretation of the legend is laid bare, for rather than merely
reporting Tristan's own faith in his innocence, Bédier himself, as conteur, appeals directly
to his readers in defense of that innocence. This defense rests on two premises: first, the
notion that divine judgment is the ultimate test of guilt or innocence; and second, that due
to the philtre's effects, Tristan's heart (being the object of the divine judgment) remains
pure. The implication, of course, is that the philtre renders the lovers faultless, at least to
a certain extent.

40
"Mais il se fiait en Dieu et savait qu'en champ clos nul n'oserait brandir une
arme contre lui. Et, certes, il se fiait justement en Dieu. Quand il jurait qu'il n'avait
jamais aimé la reine d'amour coupable, les félons riaient de l'insolente imposture. Mais je
vous appelle, seigneurs, vous qui savez la vérité du philtre bu sur la mer et qui
comprenez, disait-il mensonge? Ce n'est pas le fait qui prouve le crime, mais le
jugement. Les hommes voient le fait, mais Dieu voit les coeurs, et, seul, il est vrai juge.
Il a donc institué que tout homme accusé pourrait soutenir son droit par bataille, et lui-
même combat avec l'innocent. C'est pourquoi Tristan réclamait justice et bataille et se
garda de manquer en rien au roi Marc." Bédier, Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, 116-17
(author's translation and emphasis).
51

The nature of the love potion
This brings us to one of the most interesting points of variance among the diverse
medieval sources of the legend, and one about which much scholarly ink has been spilled,
which concerns the precise nature of the philtre's effect on the lovers. For what indeed is
the role of the philtre in the legend? One could just as well imagine the same story told
without it, as Curtis has suggested:
[O]ne can conceive of Tristan and Iseut, alone together on the high seas, falling
passionately in love, succumbing to this coup de foudre which makes them
oblivious of their duties and obligations. The story could proceed in exactly the
same way without the philtre, and its inclusion is artistically satisfying mainly
because it is such an effective symbol.
41

In this light, the inclusion of the philtre in the legend can be seen to serve two principal
functions: first, as an agent for mitigating, and thus controlling, the degree and nature of
moral conflict ascribed to the lovers; and second, as a symbolic, external representation
of their love, as Curtis suggests. The first reveals something about a particular author's
understanding of the legend, in part as a reflection of the cultural Zeitgeist, while the
second serves a more aesthetic function, reflecting a particular author's literary
craftsmanship in light of the philtre's considerable potential for exploitation as a literary
symbol.
In both Béroul's and Eilhart's versions, the philtre is the sole original cause of the
love between Tristan and Iseut, drawing them together in spite of social and moral
prudence. They are powerless against its magic, and therefore morally above reproach;

41
Curtis, Tristan Studies, 26.
52
they cannot be blamed for their adulterous attraction. In time (three years in Béroul, or
four years in Eilhart), the philtre's effects wear off, but since love has already taken root,
the lovers are forced to come to grips with a very real, very human moral dilemma—what
Bédier calls the "bitter conflict of love and law". Ultimately this, in conjunction with the
increasing hardship of their life in exile, is what motivates them to leave the Forest of
Morois and return to Mark—a decision that leads first to their separation, and then
inevitably to their death. In the Prose Tristan, there is no indication that the philtre's
power diminishes with time; rather, the lovers' separation is brought about against their
will when Mark captures and imprisons Iseut. While Thomas also gives no indication of
the philtre's abatement, his account has the lovers leave the forest willingly at Mark's
invitation, in effect choosing to pursue their own moral and social redemption at the
expense of their happiness. Another interesting feature of Thomas's account is that in his
version, the lovers' mutual attraction actually begins during Tristan's first visit to Ireland,
before they drink the potion. It is as though Thomas is not satisfied with the idea of a
love that is magically induced; hence, the philtre itself serves merely as a symbol for the
enduring power of a pre-existing, spontaneous mutual attraction.
What, then, of Joseph Bédier? What are his views on the nature of the philtre,
and what implications does this have for his Roman? In short, his conception of the
philtre is, like his novel, trés composite. On the one hand, he clearly considers the
philtre's role as a catalyst for the lover's infatuation to be indispensable, as shown in his
criticism of Eilhart:
53
He [Eilhart] thus clumsily overlooked this original and essential "given": that as
long as Tristan and Iseut have not yet drunk the philtre, they see each other with
impunity; they remain indifferent to each other.
42

In fact, Bédier himself goes one step further in his Roman, escalating the lovers'
indifference to an animosity bordering on hatred (at least on Iseut's part) in order to
underscore their lack of mutual attraction prior to the philtre, and thereby highlighting the
philtre's attenuation of their moral transgression.
43
In this respect, he distances himself
from Thomas, as he does also in having the lovers choose to leave the forest (and by
implication, each other) of their own accord. And yet, like Thomas, Bédier gives no
indication that the philtre's effects abate with time. Instead, Bédier explains the lovers'
decision on the basis of two factors: first, that upon seeing Mark’s sword they realize not
only that he has discovered them, but that he also showed great mercy in sparing them, a
fact that induces them to reconsider their situation—and second, that in light of the
hardship they have endured in exile, each seeks to return as a means to alleviate the
suffering of the other.
44
In a sense, then, Bédier seems to establish a dichotomy not so

42
"Il a donc gauchement effacé cette donnée primitive et essentielle: tant que
Tristan et Iseut n'ont pas bu le philtre, ils se voient impunément; ils restent indifférents
l'un à l'autre." Editorial commentary in Le Roman de Tristan par Thomas: Poème du XII
e

siècle, ed. Joseph Bédier, vol. 2 (Paris: Société des anciens textes français, 1902-1905),
212 (author's translation).

43
For a discussion of this, see Gallagher, "Bédier's Roman," 434-5.

44
After seeing the sword, Tristan says to himself, "The queen? She was a queen
by his side, and in this forest she lives as a slave. What have I done to her youth?" ("La
reine? Elle était reine près de lui, et dans ce bois elle vit comme une serve. Qu'ai-je fait
de sa jeunesse?") Similarly, Iseut muses, "Should not Tristan live in the palace of the
king, with a hundred squires around him, who would be his entourage and serve him in
order to be knighted? Should he not, riding through courts and baronies, seek after
54
much between "love and law", but rather within the realm of love, between selfish desire
and selfless consideration for the beloved. Thus, Bédier deftly achieves a crucial juncture
in the story—wherein the lovers are propelled from their indulgent reclusion onto a
course leading inexorably to their death—in a manner that is consistent with, rather than
in opposition to, the philtre's effects. This helps to preserve the carefully controlled
dramatic "descent" that is a particular feature of Bédier's telling. Driven always by the
effects of the magic potion, the narrative leads us with an almost linear sense of
inevitability from the moment the hapless lovers accidentally ingest the philtre to their
eventual demise.

The philtre as symbol
We have already mentioned the link between love and death, a motif that runs
throughout virtually all of Bédier's medieval sources and which Bédier himself also
liberally exploits throughout his telling. Following mainly after Thomas,
45
Bédier uses
the philtre as an emblem, signifying this love-death complex. He first hints at the
association of the philtre with death at the moment of its genesis, when Iseut's mother
says, "...they who drink it together will love each other with all their sense and with all

adventures? But, because of me, he forgets all chivalry, is exiled from the court, is
hunted in this wood, and leads a savage life...!" ("Tristan ne devrait-il pas vivre au palais
du roi, avec cent damoiseaux autour de lui, qui seraient de sa mesnie et le serviraient pour
être armés chevaliers? Ne devrait-il pas, chevauchant par les cours et les baronnies,
chercher soudées et aventures? Mais, pour moi, il oublie toute chevalerie, exilé de la
cour, pourchassé dans ce bois, menant cette vie sauvage!...") Bédier, Le Roman de
Tristan et Iseut, 155-6 (author's translations).

45
For a discussion of the connections between love, death, and the potion in
Thomas's Tristan, see Curtis, Tristan Studies, 36-41.
55
their thought, forever, in life and in death."
46
At this point, however, the association
remains a benign one, as the philtre is intended for Iseut and Mark on their wedding
night. At the very moment when the unfolding story strays from this intended course,
however, Bédier seizes the opportunity to establish such a link in earnest for his readers.
When Iseut's handmaiden discovers the vin herbé aboard the ship, even before Tristan
and Iseut have drunk of it, Bédier as conteur interjects: "No, this was not wine, this was
passion; it was bitter joy and unending anguish, and death."
47
Branghien is the first to
introduce this theme to the characters inside the story, crying out, "Iseut, my friend, and
you, Tristan, it is your death that you have drunk!"
48
Three days later, when the two have
finally begun to yield to their desire, Branghien reiterates, "From the accursed cup, you
have drunk of love and of death!"
49
Tristan, realizing he is helpless against the philtre's
power, acknowledges the love-death connection it embodies and surrenders to both,
replying, "Then let death come!"
50

Once the lovers capitulate to the philtre's effects their fate is sealed, at which point
Bédier as conteur concerns himself with illustrating the consequences of their love,

46
"[...] ceux qui en boiront ensemble s'aimeront de tous leurs sens et de toute leur
pensée, à toujours, dans la vie et dans la mort." (Bédier, Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, 74;
author's translation).

47
"Non, ce n'était pas du vin: c'était la passion, c'était l'âpre joie et l'angoisse sans
fin, et la mort." (Ibid., 75-6; author's translation).

48
"Iseut, amie, et vous, Tristan, c'est votre mort que vous avez bue!" (Ibid., 76;
author's translation).

49
"Dans la coupe maudite, vous avez bu l'amour et la mort!" (Ibid., 80; author's
translation)

50
"Vienne donc la mort!" (Ibid.)
56
according to the "law of logical progression" outlined above. Curtis's description of this
process, though offered with specific regard to Thomas's version, is equally applicable to
Bédier's:
As day after day anguish and despair eat their way into the lovers' hearts, as they
become aware that no one, nothing can ever comfort them, we see their life-force
gradually draining away, and the realisation invades them that death is the only
way out.
51

Throughout this process, Bédier refrains from mentioning the philtre at all, apart from
invoking it once as a testament of Tristan's innocence (as previously discussed)—and yet,
its unspoken, almost sinister presence is palpable, underlying the lovers' yearning, their
actions, and their ever-intensifying suffering. The next explicit mention of the philtre
occurs when the tale's dramatic descent is nearly complete, as a dying Tristan sends
Kaherdin in search of Iseut with these instructions: "...tell her...to remember the potion
that we drank together on the sea; ah! it is our death that we drank!"
52
Thus, Bédier
closes the circle, confirming what the reader has sensed all along: that the philtre has
been a continual presence throughout their lives, invisible and yet undeniable, unspoken
but never forgotten, pushing them ceaselessly toward their doom.
In one sense, however, Bédier extends the symbolic value of the philtre in a
manner that is highly original and without precedent in his medieval models. Following
the death of the lovers, after Mark has entombed them on either side of the apse, a briar

51
Curtis, Tristan Studies, 39.

52
"...dites-lui...qu'il lui souvienne du breuvage que nous bûmes ensemble sur la
mer; ah! c'est notre mort que nous y avons bue!" (Bédier, Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut,
270-1; author's translation).
57
grows overnight, extending from Tristan's tomb across to Iseut's. This image is not of
Bédier's devising; rather, he adapted it from the Prose Tristan. Through a subtle and
ingenious device, however, Bédier imbues this briar with an added layer of meaning and
resonance, as Gallagher explains:
Unlike any of his sources, Bédier unmistakably establishes the relationship
between this image of enduring union and the philtre. Earlier in his romance,
Bédier had suggested the psychological effect of the love drink on Tristan through
the use of this same image, in the scene aboard ship when the two by mistake
drink the potion: "Il semblait à Tristan qu'une ronce vivace, aux épines aiguës,
aux fleurs odorantes, poussait ses racines dans le sang de son coeur et par de forts
liens enlaçait au beau corps d'Iseut son corps et toute sa pensée, et tout son désir"
(p. 47; [Gallagher's] emphasis). In death, the metaphor is concretized and yet
transformed at the same time. There is joy and, finally, union; there are still fleurs
odorantes. But no longer suffering nor separation; there are not longer [sic] any
épines aiguës. This image of the ronce allows each of these key scenes to echo
the other in modulated resonance.
53

Thus, by projecting the image of the ronce backward through time, and superimposing it
onto his account of Tristan's first interaction with the philtre, Bédier reinforces what for
him is the essential trajectory of the legend: that the action of the philtre on the lovers
generates the "conflict of love and law" which, by means of a "law of logical
progression", drives the lovers steadily and relentlessly toward their death.
54
This small
but powerful touch clearly shows that Bédier the scholar sometimes took a back seat to

53
"It seemed to Tristan that a living briar, with sharp thorns and fragrant flowers,
pressed its roots into the blood of his heart, and with strong bonds enchained to Iseut's
beautiful body his body, and all his thoughts, and all his desire." Gallagher, "Bédier's
Roman," 444.

54
This resonance is further reinforced in Bédier’s tenth chapter, which tells of
"the closed thicket of brambles that served as their dwelling" (“le fourré clos de ronces
qui leur servait de gîte"), suggesting that in exile, the lovers have built their very life on
the foundation of the philtre’s enchantment.
58
Bédier the artist, highlighting the greater sense of liberty he assumed in composing his
1900 Roman de Tristan et Iseut than in his 1905 reconstruction of the poème primitif. In
other words, Bédier was not averse to exerting his own imprint on the legend, so long as
it contributed to the unity and literary richness of the tale.

Bédier's Roman: Other Considerations
In the course of his study, Gallagher suggests three other specific ways in which
Bédier's Roman differentiates itself from its medieval sources, revealing the hand of
Bédier écrivain. First, Bédier exhibits "the tendency to simplify, to streamline, to avoid
the long developments and, at times, redundancies of both Béroul and Thomas."
55

Second, "Bédier has attempted, it would seem, to make...all three of his major characters
more sympathetic"
56
(primarily by downplaying Mark's gullibility and ill-temper, as well
as the lovers' deceitful chicanery). And third, "He demonstrates a marked penchant for a
somewhat Victorian treatment of sexuality and thus loses some of the quick wit and
ribald humor so typical of his medieval models."
57
All three of these attributes can be
largely attributed to Zeitgeist, and viewed as part of Bédier's effort to assimilate an
ancient legend to contemporary tastes and aesthetics. The first in particular, however,
suggests the author's deliberate concern for presenting the story in a tightly knit, unified,

55
Gallagher, "Bédier's Roman," 437.

56
Ibid., 440.

57
Ibid., 445.
59
and concise form, which no doubt contributed to its appeal as a source for Martin’s
libretto.
The extent to which Bédier succeeded in presenting a unified, cohesive version of
the Tristan legend, in a form accessible to the modern French public while holding true to
the spirit and structure of the "original" tale (as he understood it), remains somewhat
indeterminate. The only contemporary scholarly critique of Bédier's work is a brief
review by the Tristan expert Wolfgang Golther, who praises the work's literary merit but
criticizes its lack of internal unity—a defect he blames on the incompatibility of Bédier's
various sources. (This mirrors Bédier's own self-conscious assessment of the work as
"ma chimère" and "très composite".) On the other hand, from a purely literary
perspective, the Roman has garnered almost unilateral praise on account of its style, its
faithfulness to the spirit of the myth, and its perfect form.
58
In his preface to a later
edition of the novel, George Duhamel attempts to encapsulate its appeal:
As for...Joseph Bédier, he managed to mete out and breathe life into an exquisite
prose that derives its poetic value from the beauty of its descriptions and of its
thought, from its choice of words, from its rhythms, and above all from its
imposed cadence.
59

Of course, Frank Martin was no Tristan scholar, and there is no reason to believe he had
any acquaintance with the medieval sources on which Bédier’s Roman was based. His

58
The foregoing summary of the critical reception of Bédier's Roman is
paraphrased from Gallagher, "Bédier's Roman," 428.

59
"Quant à...Joseph Bédier, il a su mesurer et faire vibrer une prose exquise qui
tire sa valeur poétique et de la beauté des descriptions et des pensées, et du choix des
mots, des rythmes, plutôt que d'une cadence imposée." George Duhamel, préface to Le
Roman de Tristan et Iseut par Joseph Bédier (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale; André Sauret,
éditeur, n.d.), 13-14, quoted in Ibid., 441 (author's translation).
60
attraction to the novel would likely have been based on grounds more aesthetic than
philological, and in fact, Martin would later come to cite some of the same attributes
praised here by Duhamel in explaining his choice of the novel as a textual source for the
libretto of Le Vin Herbé.
61

CHAPTER 4: THE TEXT OF LE VIN HERBÉ

Bédier's text suited my purpose as I thought no other prose would, for its
extraordinary sense of rhythm, proportions and ideal psychological movement. I
was able to adopt it wholesale, without changes, which is unequivocal proof of its
extreme perfection.
1

At the time Frank Martin was commissioned to compose a work for Robert
Blum's Zürcher Madrigalchor in the spring of 1938, he had recently been reading Charles
Morgan's Sparkenbroke, a novel thoroughly infused with the age-old legend of Tristan
and Isolde. Seizing upon the opportunity, he decided to fulfill the commission by setting
to music a single chapter from Joseph Bédier's 1900 retelling of the Tristan story.
Exactly how and when Martin first came into contact with Bédier's novel is uncertain, but
his account of the work's genesis, set forth in an essay written just three years later,
implies that he was already well acquainted with it by that time: "Filled with my Tristan
idea, I took up again the well-known novel which Joseph Bédier drew from the old

1
"Le texte de Bédier, comme je crois aucune autre prose, me servit et me porta
par son sens extraordinaire du rythme, des proportions et du juste mouvement
psychologique. Je pus le prendre intégralment, sans changements, ce qui est une preuve
non équivoque de son extrême perfection." Frank Martin, A propos de... Commentaires
de Frank Martin sur ses oeuvres (Neuchâtel: A la Baconnière, 1984), 35 (author's
translation).
62
medieval storytellers, and I understood immediately that I could never find a text more
ideal for my purposes."
2

In this chapter, we will examine the text of Le Vin Herbé from several different
perspectives. First, we will explore the factors that may have attracted Martin to Bédier’s
particular telling of the story, especially in relation to Wagner's opera on the same
subject, which was at that time the most universally familiar version. We will also seek
to analyze the process by which Martin selected excerpts from Le Roman de Tristan et
Iseut for use in Le Vin Herbé, and offer a critical analysis of Martin’s libretto as a self-
contained dramatic story (in both the original one-act version and its subsequent
expansion into a three-act oratorio). Finally, we will briefly examine the relative efficacy
of two subsequent performance translations—Martin's own German version based on a
free translation by Rudolf Binding, and an English version furnished by Clifton Helliwell
for a 1948 performance at Covent Garden.

From Prose to Music: The Original (One-Act) Libretto of Le Vin Herbé
The fourth chapter of the romance, "Le Philtre", was a complete whole in itself, of
the exact duration for the half-hour that had been granted me, suggestive of the
desired arrangement into ensembles and solos.
3

2
"Plein de mon idée de Tristan, je repris le roman bien connu que Joseph Bédier
a tiré des vieux conteurs du Moyen Age et je compris de suite que jamais je ne pourrais
trouver texte plus approprié à mon dessein." Ibid., 31 (author's translation and emphasis).

3
"Le quatrième chapitre du roman, 'Le Philtre', faisait un tout complet en lui-
même, d'une longueur exacte pour la demi-heure qui m'était accordée, ménageant à
souhait des ensembles et des solos." Frank Martin, Commentaires, 31 (author's
translation).
63
Frank Martin initially composed Le Vin Herbé in 1938 to fulfill Robert Blum's
commission, setting only the fourth chapter of Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut. Although
Bédier's formal division of the Tristan legend into discrete chapters is without precedent
in his medieval sources, the distinctly episodic structure of those earlier versions is
nevertheless highly suggestive of this relatively modern narrative format.
4
In any case,
Martin's decision to excerpt a single chapter from Bédier's novel, virtually intact and
largely unedited,
5
naturally had certain consequences for the dramatic effect of this first,
one-act version of the oratorio.
Perhaps the most notable of these consequences is that the excerpt feels, not
surprisingly, "episodic". Its beginning gives the listener an impression of entering into a
story that is already underway, as if arriving to a theatrical performance that has already
begun. Similarly, the ending offers little in the way of dramatic closure or completeness,
at least as far as the plot is concerned. With the exception of the first scene, which
functions as a kind of prelude, the action literally begins and ends "mid-stream"—or
more accurately, "mid-channel"—taking place aboard the ship bound from Ireland to
Cornwall. In this respect, Martin may have been influenced, or at least encouraged, by

4
As Alan Fedrick notes in the introduction to his The Romance of Tristan by
Béroul (London: Penguin Books, 1970), these episodes often contain discrepancies, or
details that are contradicted in other episodes—a fact that has been cited as evidence that
this version (and others) may be compilations of works by multiple authors.

5
While Martin's musical setting remained essentially faithful to the text of
Bédier's fourth chapter, it is worth noting that he did make a number of relatively minor
emendations to it, ranging from slight changes of punctuation, to simple word
substitutions, to the addition, omission, or alteration of complete sentences. Some
general observations regarding these changes are presented below, in relation to the final,
complete version of Martin's oratorio.
64
Wagner's opera, the first act of which also begins and ends aboard this ill-fated voyage.
Like Martin, Wagner had to streamline the story considerably in setting it to music, and
although fashioning his own original libretto afforded Wagner considerable liberties in
providing his audience with additional background where necessary, his exclusion of the
narrative voice required him to resort to various expository devices, such as character
reminiscences, in order to accomplish this. Whereas the narrative voice plays a far more
crucial role in Bédier's text, Martin imposed a different sort of limitation on himself in
choosing to adopt the text essentially without modification. He must indeed, therefore,
have deemed this single chapter to be dramatically self-sufficient, forming "un tout
complet en lui-même".

Partial allusions
Presenting an excerpt from one complete dramatic text as a distinct, complete
dramatic text in itself inherently presents certain pitfalls with respect to both form and
content. Regarding content, one such pitfall is the tendency to result in "partial
allusions", or references to specific objects, characters, or events that would have been
introduced or explained elsewhere. Devoid of this context, these references may not in
themselves suffice to afford the listener a full understanding of their significance, and
may therefore seem somewhat cryptic. While the fourth chapter of Bédier's Roman,
considered in isolation, produces remarkably few of these "partial allusions", those that
do arise are worth examining. The first is found in Iseut's reaction to Tristan's attempts to
console her: "He had come, he the abductor, he, the murderer of Morholt; he had torn her
65
so cunningly from her mother and from her country; he had not deigned to keep her for
himself..."
6
The purpose of this passage, for both Bédier and Martin, is to establish
Iseut's disdain for Tristan prior to their drinking the philtre. Iseut refers to two specific
events that had occurred previously in the legend: first, Tristan's slaying of the Morholt
(Iseut's uncle, a giant sent to claim Cornish youth as a tribute for the Irish king), and
second, Tristan's slaying of a dragon in order to "win" Iseut as bride—not for himself, but
for Mark, as Iseut only later discovers. The full account of these events, as provided
earlier by Bédier, affords the listener a satisfying contextual point of reference for Iseut's
words. By removing that context, Martin risks giving his listener the impression that
either he has missed something, or he has been denied a full explanation. The essential
structural function of this passage (i.e., establishing Iseut's disdain) is still accomplished,
but in a manner less satisfying to the listener. The same applies to Tristan's invocation of
the four "félons"
7
(which serves to establish his own inner conflict in coveting his uncle's
bride-to-be), and also to Iseut's reference to their previous meeting in Ireland
8
(which

6
"Il était venu, lui le ravisseur, lui, le meurtrier du Morholt; il l'avait arrachée par
ses ruses à sa mère et à son pays; il n'avait pas daigné la garder pour lui-même..." Bédier,
Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, 75 (author's translation).

7
"Andret, Denoalen, Guenelon, and Gondoïne, traitors who accuse me of
coveting King Marc's land, ah! I am still more vile, as it is not his land that I covet!"
("Andret, Denoalen, Guenelon et Gondoïne, félons qui m'accusiez de convoiter la terre du
roi Marc, ah! je suis plus vil encore, et ce n'est pas sa terre que je convoite!"; ibid., 76-77,
author's translation).

8
"Ah! What if I had not healed the injured minstrel's wounds long ago? What if I
had left the monster's killer to perish in the swamp-grass? What if I had struck him as he
lay in the bath with the sword I had already drawn? Alas! I did not know then what I
know now!" ("Ah! que n'ai-je avivé naguère les plaies du jongleur blessé? Que n'ai-je
laissé périr le tueur du monstre dans les herbes du marécage? Que n'ai-je asséné sur lui,
66
further emphasizes Iseut's "pre-philtral" animosity toward Tristan, while also highlighting
the tragic nature of their growing attraction). While these unexplained references may
have a distracting or disorienting effect on the listener, the essential elements that drive
the plot nevertheless remain intact. As long as the listener can accept such "partial
allusions" as an intrinsic quality of the work, they therefore need not detract significantly
from the work's overall dramatic effect.

Dramatic form
Another potential pitfall of this excerption process concerns the issue of form,
since the dramatic "arc" traced by the excerpted portion must now stand and be
considered on its own rather than in relation to the whole. In this light, the trajectory of
Bédier's fourth chapter can be said to articulate, at least on one level, the gradual onset of
magical love as it takes hold of Tristan and Iseut. Bédier describes the development of
this mutual attraction in terms of three carefully graduated stages that might be described
as germination, resistance, and acceptance. The first sign of their burgeoning love is
made apparent immediately after the lovers ingest the potion, as Brangien enters to find
them regarding each other in silent rapture.
9
In the very next scene, we see this love

quand il gisait dans le bain, le coup de l'épée déjà brandie? Hélas! je ne savais pas alors
ce que je sais aujourd'hui!"; ibid., 78-79, author's translation).

9
"At that instant, Brangien entered and saw that they gazed at each other in
silence, as if stunned and enraptured." ("A cet instant, Brangien entra et les vit qui se
regardaient en silence, comme égarés et comme ravis." Ibid., 76, author's translation.)
67
growing like a briar in Tristan's veins.
10
Next, Bédier describes each lover's resistance to
the potion's effect in turn, as first Tristan and then Iseut wrestle internally with their own
feelings (illustrating Bédier's "conflict of love and law"). For Tristan, this conflict is
framed in terms of his devotion to Mark, while for Iseut, her attraction to Tristan is
contraposed against her reasons for hating him. Eventually, their inner struggles give
way to a kind of acceptance, as Iseut reluctantly acknowledges Tristan's power over her,
and then confesses her love for him, prompting him to kiss her. Finally they embrace,
surrendering eternally to the potion's effect.
11
Together these passages serve to trace,
with measured steps, the process by which these two characters succumb to a mutual
attraction imposed on them against their will.
Another parallel aspect of this chapter's formal design concerns the foreshadowed
trajectory of the lovers' tragic fate, which Bédier cultivates in tandem with the onset of
their love. This portentous theme is projected and amplified primarily through the
character of Brangien, who becomes increasingly agitated as she observes the lovers'
behavior. As the one responsible for bringing the philtre on board the ship, she alone

10
"It seemed to Tristan that a living briar, with sharp thorns and fragrant flowers,
pressed its roots into the blood of his heart, and with strong bonds enchained to Iseut's
beautiful body his body, and all his thoughts, and all his desire." ("Il semblait à Tristan
qu'une ronce vivace, aux épines aiguës, aux fleurs odorantes, poussait ses racines dans le
sang de son coeur, et par de forts liens enlaçait au beau corps d'Iseut son corps et toute sa
pensée et tout son désir." Ibid., 76, author's translation.)

11
"The lovers embraced... eternally joined, they surrendered to love." ("Les
amants s'étreignirent... liés a jamais, ils s'abandonnèrent à l'amour." Ibid., 80, author's
translation.)
68
immediately recognizes the tragic consequences of the lovers' mistake.
12
Through her
eyes, Bédier as conteur begins to reveal those consequences in a manner that anticipates
the subsequent events of his novel:
For two days she watched them, saw them refuse all sustenance, all drink and all
comfort, seeking each other as the blind grope in darkness, miserably yearning
when apart, still more miserable when, reunited, they trembled at the horror of
their first confession [of love].
13

Here already we catch a glimpse of the lovers enduring various types of suffering,
including the ascetic self-denial of basic necessities, the painful yearning of separation,
and the horrible fear associated with the indulgence of their illicit union, providing a
foretaste of the various types of suffering yet to come. After the lovers kiss, Brangien,
knowing their fate is sealed, proclaims their sentence: "But no, there is no way back, for
now the power of love enthralls you, and never again will you have joy without
sorrow."
14
These two primary dramatic trajectories (the onset of magical love and the
growing anticipation of their inevitable tragic fate) are, of course, intimately connected—
a fact that is underscored throughout the chapter by the repeated association of love and
death. Ultimately, both elements attain their full expression simultaneously, dovetailing
at the moment in which the lovers surrender to the twin realities of their love and its

12
"...for she alone knew the evil she had caused." ("...car seule elle savait quel
mal elle avait causé" Ibid., 77, author's translation.)

13
"Deux jours elle les épia, les vit repousser toute nourriture, tout breuvage et tout
réconfort, se chercher comme des aveugles qui marchent à tâton l'un vers l'autre,
malheureux quand ils languissaient séparés, plus malheureux encor, quand, réunis, ils
tremblaient devant l'horreur du premier aveu." Ibid., 77-8, author's translation.

14
"Mais non, la voie est sans retour, déjà la force de l'amour vous entraîne et
jamais plus vous n'aurez de joie sans douleur." Ibid., 79-80, author's translation.
69
tragic consequences. This dual climax is embodied in Tristan's last line, "Then let death
come!"
Following that climactic declaration, a single sentence of denouement follows to
conclude the excerpt, in which we see the ship continuing on its journey toward
Cornwall. This motif articulates another layer in the dramatic form of the chapter,
whereby events are repeatedly framed in reference to the motion of the ship. In the
course of the chapter, Bédier thrice reiterates the ship's forward progress, whereas the
central dramatic complication (the lovers' drinking the potion) is precipitated by a
momentary interruption in that progress. The illusion of continuity established by these
repeated references to the ship's motion is subverted by the dramatic "course change"
brought about by the philtre. A tragic and ominous sense of irony therefore impregnates
this final image, stemming from the fact that, while the ship's geographical course
remains unchanged, the fate of the central characters has been clearly and undeniably
diverted from its original course.
Ultimately, these formal structures only partially mitigate the "episodic" quality
of the excerpt. The effectiveness of Martin's original one-act libretto therefore depends
largely upon the audience's ability to appreciate it as inherently incomplete, representing
only a small part of a complete dramatic entity. An evaluation of this version must also
account for its originally intended function as part of a larger choral concert. Whereas
the patrons of an opera performance, or even an oratorio, will generally expect the
evening's entertainment to consist of a single, dramatically coherent story, a concert
presented by a choral ensemble (such as the Zürcher Madrigalchor) will often consist of a
70
more or less eclectic "collage" of shorter works. These may sometimes be presented in
groups or sets gravitating around one or more nuclear themes, but there is generally not
the same expectation that the entire program will adhere to any single, unified musical
structure. By the same token, an individual piece or even a set of pieces so presented will
often itself be excerpted from a larger, multi-movement work, whether that be liturgical
(e.g. a mass or cantata), cyclical (e.g. a madrigal cycle or set of songs), or even dramatic
(e.g. an opera or oratorio). Hence, the incomplete, "episodic" nature of this one-act
version is perhaps not wholly inappropriate in light of its duration, the circumstances of
its genesis, and its intended purpose.

From Episode to Oratorio: The Complete Le Vin Herbé
After the first performance of this piece, I realized that in order to complete it, I
needed to add to this chapter two others: that of "The Forest of Morois", where
the lovers decide to separate and that of "The Death", so that my work might
assume a more complete form and embrace the whole tragic adventure, and also
so that it would fill an evening and might be performed on its own. I considered it
necessary for the atmosphere of this tale of love and death that it have a longer
duration, and also necessary that not only love be represented, but that death
should bring its peace, after all the joys and agonies of passion.

In 1941, I had finished the third part and completed the work by attaching the
Prologue and the Epilogue that frame Joseph Bédier's novel. Robert Blum, with
his Madrigalchor, was thus able to give the first complete performance in Zurich,
in April of 1942.
15

15
"Aprés la première exécution de cette pièce, je me rendis compte qu'il fallait la
compléter en ajoutant à ce chapitre deux autres: celui de 'La Forêt du Morois', où les
amants se décident à se séparer et celui de 'La Mort', afin que mon oeuvre trouve une
forme plus complète et embrasse toute l'aventure tragique, afin aussi qu'elle remplisse
une soirée et qu'on la puisse donner seule. J'ai estimé nécessaire à l'atmosphère de ce
conte d'amour et de mort une durée plus grande, et nécessaire aussi que l'amour n'y soit
pas représenté seul, mais que la mort y apporte sa paix, après toutes les joies et les
angoisses de la passion. En 1941, j'avais terminé la troisième partie et complété l'oeuvre
71

The complete version of Frank Martin's Le Vin Herbé spans three acts (plus a
prologue and epilogue), and lasts just under two hours. The process of expanding the
work into a form that, although still substantially abbreviated, would encompass the full
dramatic sweep of the Tristan legend was, however, somewhat more complicated than
Martin's own account would seem to suggest. Indeed, the expanded libretto reflects a
considerably higher degree of editorial involvement than the original. This suggests that
Martin, while still desiring to remain as true to Bédier's prose as possible, was
nonetheless also concerned with producing a work that presented, if not a distillation of
Bédier's entire novel, then at least a satisfying, self-contained dramatic entity in its own
right. An examination of Martin's libretto in relation to Bédier's novel may serve to
illuminate some of the composer's aesthetic concerns and intentions.
Martin's reference to the story as "ce conte d'amour et de mort" echoes a phrase
Bédier himself uses to open and introduce his novel, and which Martin subsequently
adopts in his Prologue. It reflects a particular understanding of the tale in which love and
death are not only given equal importance, but are inextricably bound together by the
force of destiny, as symbolized in the vin herbé. The lovers' death, which, at least in
concept, concludes the trajectory established in Bédier's fourth chapter (i.e., Martin's first
act), represents both the fullest expression of their suffering, and simultaneously, their
release from it. It was therefore not only logical, but essential, that Martin should include

en y joignant le Prologue et l'Epilogue qui encadrent le roman de Joseph Bédier. Robert
Blum, avec son Madrigalchor, put alors en donner la première audition intégrale à Zurich,
en avril 1942." Frank Martin, Commentaires, 35 (author's translation).
72
it in his "complete" oratorio—and yet, this alone would not suffice to give the oratorio a
satisfying dramatic form. The real richness and substance of the legend is found in the
series of episodes that trace the "conflict of love and law" from its inception in the
drinking of the potion, to its culmination in (or perhaps beyond) the lovers' death. It is
here that Bédier himself perceived one of the legend's greatest formal assets in what he
called the "law of logical progression", whereby the lovers are propelled toward their
inevitable fate by the escalating series of hardships they endure. Martin's challenge, then,
was to distill this progression, from philtre to death, into a dramatic work of limited scope
and duration. In this respect, his choice of the forest scene as a focal point for the
"middle" of his abbreviated story is an inspired one, for it contains an essential node in
the drama in the form of a crucial turning point in the evolution of the "conflict of love
and law".
Prior to entering the forest of Morois, the lovers' struggle consists of devising
ways to be together undetected, so as not to disrupt the social order. Hence, it is
primarily the law that is presented as an obstacle to their love. Once their deceit is
detected (though their guilt remains unproven), the lovers flee to the forest, where they
can indulge their passion largely unhindered. Tristan's effort to validate their tryst to
Ogrin the Hermit at this point (early in Bédier's ninth chapter) also reflects an attempt by
the narrator to justify their actions to the listener. Tristan's defensive appeal rests on two
ostensibly mitigating factors: first, that the lovers are enslaved by the potion they
consumed at sea, and second, that by ceding Iseut to the lepers, Mark had surrendered
any lawful claim to her. Later, however, after Mark discovers them in the forest and
73
mercifully spares them, they come to realize that their idyllic (though austere) life in
Morois, which on one level represents the complete liberation of their passion, is not an
acceptable resolution to their situation. At last, they see that not only does the law hinder
their love, but reciprocally, their love presents an intolerable conflict with their sincere
and honorable desire to obey social customs. It is at this moment that the "conflict of
love and law" manifests its full potency, revealing the impasse that renders their love
both futile and fatal.
16
Martin's inclusion of this episode imbues his expanded oratorio
with not only a distilled account of the lovers' essential (and ultimately unresolvable)
dilemma, but also a deeper sense of the complex relationships existing among its three
main characters.
At this point, it is worth noting one feature that distinguishes Martin's contribution
from much of the greater corpus of Tristan lore, in that he gives the philtre itself, rather
than one or both of the lovers, the title role. In the hands of Bédier, as in each of his
medieval sources, the philtre largely disappears into the background throughout the litany
of episodes recounting the lovers' trials, even though its influence on the lovers remains
palpable. Throughout the bulk of the unfolding saga, up until the point where the lovers'
death is imminent, the philtre's influential presence is made known more implicitly than
explicitly. (Perhaps this is because the "love" that pushes them together is rendered
somewhat more palatable when developed independently of its artificial cause, as Béroul

16
The impasse established here also creates a resonance with the premonitory
description of the lovers in Bédier's fourth chapter (quoted above) as "...miserably
yearning when apart, still more miserable when, reunited, they trembled at the horror of
their first confession [of love]." ("...malheureux quand ils languissaient séparés, plus
malheureux encor, quand, réunis, ils tremblaient devant l'horreur du premier aveu.")
Bédier, Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, 77-8 (author's translation).
74
and Eilhart surely recognized in according the philtre a limited duration.) Martin's choice
of title, on the other hand, seems to present the philtre itself as a kind of protagonist; and
indeed, one consequence of streamlining Bédier's material is that it affords Martin's
philtre a much more substantial role, proportionally, in relation to the complete work.
Taken together, then, the three acts of Martin's oratorio could be said to trace the fatal
impact of le vin herbé on the lovers' destiny through (respectively) its inception,
actualization, and consummation.

Une forme plus complète
In concatenating these episodes to form his extended oratorio, Martin did not
simply adopt particular chapters from Bédier's novel as he had done for the original, one-
act version. Rather, the composition of his libretto reflects a much more deliberate and
selective approach, in terms of both the specific passages excerpted from the novel, and
their treatment. In his third act, for example, Martin seems to have considered Bédier's
final chapter to be too long for his purposes, for he removed a substantial portion of its
midsection. The omitted passage provides a full account of Kaherdin's quest to retrieve
Iseut la Blonde, as well as a brief, highly editorialized description of Iseut aux Blanches
Mains's vengeful plotting. Martin's decision to cut it likely reflects concerns over
duration, dramatic pacing, and balance, as well as the desire to give greater weight to the
all-important death scene. In addition to abbreviating this final chapter, Martin also
prefaced it with three carefully selected passages from Bédier's fifteenth chapter, "Iseut
aux Blanches Mains", which together constitute the opening scene of his third act. These
75
appended excerpts provide an elegant introduction and transition to this final act, by
conveying the time elapsed since the lovers' separation, and relating the circumstances by
which Tristan came to marry Iseut aux Blanches Mains.
The process by which Martin fashioned his second act reflects an even greater
degree of editorial agency. Here again, Martin's first scene consists of a transition and
introduction designed to provide a summary of the events of the intervening chapters of
Bédier's novel. Martin apparently sought to adopt (or adapt) Bédier's own words as much
as possible, by constructing this summary out of carefully selected sentences taken from
the omitted chapters. The text of his first scene begins with one short passage from
Chapter 5, one from Chapter 6, and three separate excerpts from Chapter 8. To these,
Martin adds two sentences of his own, in order to include a brief account of the lovers'
escape.
17
In stitching these excerpts together into a short summary of the intervening
events, Martin saw fit to make some slight modifications to Bédier's prose as well. This
"transitional material" also extends to include the first two sentences of act 2, scene 2,
which provide a summary (added by Martin) of the first part of Bédier's ninth chapter.
For the remainder of this scene, Martin picks up Bédier's text toward the end of Chapter 9
("La Fôret du Morois"); however, he omits the final portion of this ninth chapter, jumping
ahead to the beginning of Bédier's Chapter 10 ("L'Ermite Ogrin") in act 2, scene 3.

17
"In a leap from the chapel, Tristan escapes: he frees the queen! The king had
handed her over to the lepers." ("Au saut de la chapelle, Tristan s'échappe: il délivre la
reine! Le roi l'avait livrée à ses lépreux.") Tristan later refers specifically to these events
in his act 2, scene 3 soliloquy, citing them as evidence of God's protection. Martin,
presumably finding no suitably clear and concise distillation in Bédier's text, supplies his
own, thereby providing a necessary point of reference for Tristan's later allusion.
76
Martin's omission of the concluding passage of Bédier's ninth chapter provides a
useful example to illustrate the nature and impact of some of Martin's editorial decisions
in fashioning the libretto of Le Vin Herbé. The omitted passage describes how Mark,
having just discovered the lovers, makes his presence known to them by replacing the
sword lying between them and the ring on Iseut's finger with his own sword and ring, and
by hanging his gloves in such a way as to block a ray of sunlight falling on Iseut's face.
Upon awakening, the lovers, aware that they are discovered, flee in fear toward Wales.
The effect of omitting this passage, and instead proceeding directly into the lovers'
respective inner monologues, is to dispel the sense of the lovers' urgency and slow the
pace of the action, bestowing a largely introspective quality on Martin's middle act. This
omission also suggests that Martin deemed the passage dispensable, and possibly even
redundant, in light of information provided elsewhere. Indeed, Mark has already
summarized his intentions in the sentence immediately preceding the omitted passage:
"But I shall ensure that, upon awakening, they shall know that I have found them
sleeping, that I have not wished them dead, and that God has pitied them."
18

Furthermore, Tristan provides a partial account of the deleted events in the scene
immediately following, musing, "He had taken my sword, I slept...why, having disarmed
me, would he have left me his own sword?"
19
Shortly thereafter, Bédier similarly alludes
to the ring on Iseut's finger: "In the light of a moonbeam, she saw gleaming on her finger

18
"Mais je ferai qu'à leur reveil ils sachent que je les ai trouvés endormis, que je
n'ai pas voulu leur mort et que Dieu les a pris en pitié." (author's translation)

19
"Il avait pris mon épée, je dormais...pourquoi, m'ayant désarmé, m'aurait-il
laissé sa propre épée?" (author's translation)
77
the ring of gold that Marc had placed there. She thought, 'He who with great courtesy
gave me this ring is not the enraged man who abandoned me to the lepers.'"
20
The gloves
are mentioned nowhere else in Bédier's novel, and so nothing of substance is lost by
Martin's deletion on their account. Between Mark's declared intentions and the
subsequent allusions to the means by which he fulfilled them, Martin must therefore have
believed his audience would have sufficient information to grasp the essential elements of
the omitted passage. He likely warranted its omission on grounds of brevity and pacing,
aiming to keep the storyline as succinct as possible. From Martin's perspective, an
additional benefit of this omission is that it relegates more of the actual storytelling to the
characters themselves, rather than to the narrative voice. Thus, by allowing Bédier's
characters to unveil certain plot elements, Martin demonstrates a predilection for a more
indirect narrative style that, on a musical level, would also serve to alleviate the potential
monotony of excessive choral narration.
This omission also has an inadvertent consequence, however, with particular
regard to the golden ring, for without any specific account of Mark's having exchanged it,
Iseut's musings take on a somewhat different interpretation. In Bédier's original, Iseut
seems to regard her new ring as a token of mercy, given to her by Mark just days earlier
when he might instead have slain her. By omitting the earlier reference, however,
Martin's version instead seems to suggest that Iseut is reflecting anew upon a ring Mark
gave her years ago, as a token of belle courtoisie. In this light, Iseut's decision to leave

20
À la clarté d'un rayon de lune, elle vit luire à son doigt l'anneau d'or que Marc y
avait placé. Elle songea: "Celui qui par belle courtoisie m'a donné cet anneau d'or n'est
pas l'homme irrité qui me livrait aux lépreux." (author's translation)
78
the forest might seem to have been triggered less by the fact of their discovery than by a
reconsideration of Mark's character. While the king's merciful restraint still presents
itself as a likely catalyst for that decision, Martin's omission inadvertently subjects Iseut's
comments, and thus her motivations, to potentially ambiguous interpretation.
Just as the original, one-act version of Le Vin Herbé creates some "partial
allusions" as a result of Martin's excerption process, the complete oratorio as well
introduces a number of additional elements that are never fully explained. For example,
when the lovers decide to leave the forest, Iseut says, "Tristan, you remember the hermit
Ogrin in his grove. Let us return to him, and let us proclaim our thanks to the mighty
king of heaven, beloved Tristan."
21
In Bédier's novel, Ogrin is a man of God who had
served as a an advisor and confidant to the lovers upon their entering the forest, at which
point he had encouraged Tristan to repent and return Iseut to King Mark. In Martin's
oratorio, however, no such context is provided, and this single allusion to Ogrin remains
unexplained. Another such "partial allusion" concerns Tristan's relationship to King
Mark. In chapter four (act 1, scene 4 of Le Vin Herbé), Tristan muses, "Good uncle, who
loved me as an orphan, before even recognizing the blood [son] of your sister,
Blanchefleur..."
22
Later, however, Tristan twice refers to Mark as père ("father", in act 2,
scene 3 and act 2, scene 5) despite elsewhere making it absolutely clear that Mark is his
uncle. This refers to the fact that, upon Tristan's being orphaned, his uncle Mark kindly

21
"Tristan, qu'il vous souvienne de l'ermite Ogrin dans son bocage. Retournons
vers lui, et puissions-nous crier merci au puissant roi céleste, Tristan, ami." (Act 3, scene
5; author's translation)

22
"Bel oncle, qui m'avez aimé orphelin, avant même de reconnaître le sang de
votre soeur Blanchefleur..." (author's translation)
79
took him in and raised him as his own son—a fact alluded to but not sufficiently
explained in the passage cited above. Here again, a more satisfying explanation is
supplied by Bédier in an earlier chapter (omitted by Martin), and while it is clear from
context that Tristan is referring to Mark, his use of the word père in doing so is rendered
somewhat confusing to the listener.

Other textual changes
In addition to the large-scale structural changes Martin used in assembling a
complete and essentially self-sufficient version of the legend out of excerpts from
Bédier's novel, his libretto also reflects a number of alterations on a smaller scale, and it
may be instructive to note some of the broader tendencies these emendations, on the
whole, exhibit. For one thing, he frequently removed phrases in Bédier's text concerned
with the attribution of dialogue, such as "...dit Tristan" or "Iseut répondit..." Since most
of Martin's dialogue is delivered by the soloists representing the appropriate characters,
the need for such phrases is essentially eliminated. Martin is inconsistent in this regard,
however, and preserves many of these phrases in the narrative voice (most often relegated
to the chorus).
In adapting Bédier's prose, Martin also took it upon himself to alter the spelling of
certain words; for example, he consistently replaced "Cornouailles" with "Cornouaille"
and "Brangien" with "Branghien".
23
He also frequently spelled Bédier's "encore" as

23
In modern French, the plural "Cornouailles" is used to refer to the region in the
southwest of Great Britain (La Grande Bretagne) where Tintagel is situated, in order to
distinguish it from "Cornouaille", which refers to a region in Brittany (La Bretagne), in
80
"encor", though again not consistently—twice he preserves the final "e", in one case even
setting it as a three-syllable word. In a number of instances, for reasons unknown, Martin
replaced one word with an entirely different one, such as "approcha" with "arriva" in the
very first line of act 1, or "découvrit" with "trouva" in act 1, scene 3. He also frequently
altered Bédier's punctuation, substituting a comma for a period or semicolon (or vice
versa), omitting or adding commas, and replacing exclamation points with other
punctuation marks (or vice versa). In some cases, these edits might appear to serve a
deliberate musical function, such as introducing an exclamation point at moments of
musical emphasis, or removing punctuation at moments where the music suggests greater
continuity. Such correlations are highly inconsistent as well, however, and Martin's
changes seem to contradict his musical setting as often as they support it. These minor
changes therefore do not appear to suggest a systematic effort on Martin's part to align
punctuation with musical meaning; rather, for the most part they would seem to be
arbitrary, or perhaps even accidental.
Some textual changes, however, do appear to have been motivated by essentially
musical concerns. The opening lines of act 1, scene 2 will serve as one example:

northwest France. The latter was settled by migrant princes from the former during the
Middle Ages, and originally the French gave the two regions the same name. Béroul
consistently uses the spelling "Cornoualle", and Bédier presumably updated the spelling
for the sake of clarity, in light of the more recent geographical distinction. Martin's
alteration, which is not consistent with Béroul's on account of its retaining the "i", thus
would seem to inadvertently situate Marc's court on the wrong side of the channel.
Martin's spelling of "Branghien" appears to be without precedent, and his reason for
making this change is indeterminate.
81
La nef tranchant les vagues profondes emportait Iseut.
Mais plus s'éloignait la terre d'Irlande, plus tristement elle se lamentait.
Où donc ces étrangers l'entraînaient-ils? Vers qui? Vers quelle destinée?
Assise avec Branghien sous la tente, elle pleurait au souvenir de son pays.

Martin's text consists of four phrases of roughly the same length, enabling him to create
an elegantly balanced, symmetrical musical structure of the form AABA. The
corresponding passage in Bédier's novel, found early in his fourth chapter, is
characterized instead by two successive three-part structures (AAABBB):
La nef, tranchant les vagues profondes, emportait Iseut. Mais plus s'éloignait de
la terre d'Irlande, plus tristement la jeune fille se lamentait. Assise sous la tente
où elle s'était renfermée avec Brangien, sa servante, elle pleurait au souvenir de
son pays. Où ces étrangers l'entraînaient-ils? Vers qui? Vers quelle destinée?

A comparison of the two reveals that Martin altered both the structure and the content of
Bédier's prose in order to achieve a more balanced, symmetrical musical design. By
changing the order of Bédier's phrases and trimming a few words for better symmetry,
Martin gives this passage a more closed, self-contained form that, together with the static
accompaniment, evokes the ship's steady progress toward Tintagel, and renders the
following lines (describing Tristan's approach) more dramatic by contrast.
Martin's most substantial editorial efforts, however, appear to have been directed
toward streamlining the story—a crucial endeavor, in light of the fact that everything
takes longer to say in music than in written prose. In addition to omitting large portions
of Bédier's text (as discussed above), Martin also cut many smaller passages, varying in
length from a single word to several sentences—most likely due to concerns about the
overall duration, pacing, and formal balance of the work. These omissions generally
82
consist of elaborations that are unnecessary to the essential structure of the plot, and that
Martin therefore presumably deemed to be dispensable. The considerable editorial
efforts Martin invested in assembling his libretto do little to detract from his professed
reverence for Bédier's prose. On the contrary, the care and attention he exhibited in
presenting Bédier's romance as faithfully as possible, within the durational confines of an
evening's performance, are indeed a testament to what Martin himself called its "extrême
perfection".

Love in Any Language: Translations of Le Vin Herbé
The success of Le Vin Herbé quickly led Martin to furnish it with an alternate
German text, which was printed along with the original French underlay in the score
published by Universal Editions in 1943. This German version, bearing the title Der
Zaubertrank, received its first performance at the 1948 Salzburg Festival. As the
published score indicates, Martin based his own German text on a 1911 translation of
Bédier's novel by Rudolf Binding. Although Binding is frequently given sole credit for
the German translation of Le Vin Herbé, the extent to which Martin's text actually follows
Binding's varies greatly. Some phrases he adopted verbatim, while others he thoroughly
revised, usually in order to establish closer alignment with the scansion and rhythms of
the original French underlay (and hence, of his own musical setting). Where precise
rhythmic alignment was either impossible or impractical, Martin either modified the
translation to better fit his music, or rhythmically altered his music to better fit the
translation (using small "cue" notes to indicate the alternative rhythm of the German
83
text), or both. In so doing, his primary concern was to ensure that syllabic points of
emphasis generally aligned with musical ones (tonic, agogic, metrical, and dynamic).
Martin's setting of the original French text is almost exclusively syllabic; melismas are
reserved only for a few particularly expressive emotional outbursts by the characters. He
sought to retain this aspect in the German as much as possible,
24
heightening the
importance (and difficulty) of metrically aligning the German text to the French.
One of the challenges Martin faced in adapting Binding's text to his music
concerns the use of proper names, such as those of the three main characters or of certain
geographical locations. Many of these names have different spellings and/or
pronunciations in German than in French, in some cases resulting in a different metrical
scansion. For example, in German (as in English) the name "Tristan" is pronounced with
the emphasis on the first syllable, whereas in French, the accent is on the second. In most
cases, Martin was able to account for this either by modifying the rhythms of surrounding
words, or by rearranging the structure of the sentence. In at least one case,
25
however, he
resorted to using a tenuto mark (a device he frequently employed to denote word stress,
particularly when it contradicted the usual metrical hierarchy) to displace the emphasis
artificially. Similarly, in French the name "Marc" has but one syllable, while the German
equivalent "Marke" has two—a difference Martin could usually accommodate simply by
subdividing one musical note into two. Fortunately for Martin, Binding adopted the

24
A couple of short melismas were apparently unavoidable; for example, see act
1, scene 5, fourth measure of [4] ("alles"), or act 2, scene 4, fifth measure of [7]
("verbannt").

25
See act 1, scene 3, at [2]: "Tristan fit atterir..." vs. "Tristan ließ eine Insel..."
84
archaic form of the name "Isot" (which is metrically interchangeable with Bédier's
"Iseut") rather than the modernized form "Isolde".
26

In addition to affecting metrical scansion, Binding's German translation often
altered the sentence structure of the original French text, owing to the very different
syntactic idioms of the two languages. For Martin, this had the effect of shifting the
relative emphasis within particular sentences or melodic phrases. In a few cases, Martin
responded by simply reordering Binding's German words to parallel more closely the
original French,
27
but more often, he fit Binding's restructured phrase to his music by
making the rhythmic adjustments necessary to align word stresses with musical ones. In
most cases this was effective, but in a few places where Martin's original melodic line
had been specifically designed to highlight a particular word, it yielded somewhat
awkward results. For example, when the narrator reacts to the serving-maid's discovery
of the philtre, Martin uses a parallel melodic construction to highlight the textual
parallelism of the French: "ce n'était pas du vin, c'était la passion".
28
Due to the different
structure of this sentence in German, however, this parallelism is lost in translation: "Es
war ja kein Wein, die Leidenschaft war's". Similarly, when Mark discovers the lovers
sleeping in the forest, he interprets the sword between them as a sign of chastity, but the

26
Curiously, Binding uses the modern form "Isolde" only in his title, while using
the Mittelhochdeutsch "Isot" (after Gottfried von Strassburg) throughout the body of the
novel.

27
For example, in act 1, scene 1, at [2]: in accordance with conventional German
sentence structure, Binding moved the main verb to the end of the clause: "...du sollst Isot
in das Land König Markes folgen..." Martin simply moved it back, to match the structure
of the original French: "...du sollst folgen Isot in das Land König Markes..."

28
"This was not wine, it was passion." (Act I, scene 3, at [7], author's emphasis)
85
musical emphasis on the sword as the indicator of their innocence ("...auraient-ils placé
cette épée entre eux?")
29
is awkwardly displaced in the German ("hätten sie das Schwert
zwischen sich gelegt?") Another such awkward construction occurs in act 3, scene 2, as a
dying Tristan longs to see his beloved Iseut once again. Bédier's straightforward
statement, "Alors ils voulut revoir Iseut la Blonde" is restructured by Binding as, "Da
wollte er Isot noch einmal wiedersehn, die Blonde." Martin retains this awkward
construction (apart from substituting "sehen" for "wiedersehn") and even exacerbates it
by inserting a rest before "die Blonde", giving the impression that the narrator is
clarifying which Isot he means well after the fact, almost as though an afterthought.
30
In
at least one instance, on the other hand, the different structure of the German text actually
affords a marginal improvement over the French, as in the scene where Tristan reacts to
Mark's having discovered them in the forest. Here, Tristan cites the lovers' earlier escape
as evidence of God's protection, a point emphasized more effectively in the German
("Gott in seinen Schutz uns genommen hatte")
31
than in the French ("Dieu nous avait pris
en sa sauvegarde.")
In some cases, accommodating the German text required Martin essentially to re-
write portions of Binding's prose. On the whole, in terms of its literal meaning, Martin's
German libretto nonetheless manages to adhere quite closely to the original French, yet
some of his alterations resulted in a subtle shift in the character or tone of a particular

29
"...would they have placed this sword between them?" (Act 2, scene 2, at [4])

30
This could easily have been avoided by a slightly different word ordering, such
as "Da wollte er noch einmal Isot die Blonde sehen."

31
"God had taken us under his protection." (Act 2, scene 3, at [7])
86
passage. For example, when Iseut wonders to what fate the Cornish knights are bringing
her ("Vers quelle destinée?"), Binding's straightforward translation, "Zu welchem
Geschick?" is rendered more ominous by Martin, who substitutes "Zu welchem dunklen
Schicksal?" ("To what dark fate?" [act 1, scene 3, author's emphasis]). Later, as Mark
prepares to enter the lovers' hut in the forest, Bédier's account of a simple action, "Il tire
son épée hors de la gaine..." ("He draws his sword from its sheath...") is faithfully
represented in Binding's translation as "er zieht das Schwert aus der Scheide...", but is
made more dramatic by Martin as "Mit Wucht zieht er das Schwert aus seiner Scheide..."
("With great force he draws the sword from its sheath..." [act 2, scene 2, author's
emphasis]). One further example of elaboration resulting from Martin's textual
adjustments is found in the epilogue, which Bédier concludes with a five-item litany of
love's woes (against which his tale is offered as consolation). Presumably for reasons of
scansion, Martin expands this litany to six items, inserting "gegen den Schmerz" before
the original five.
One consequence (deliberate or not) of Binding's translation, which is retained by
Martin, is the establishment of a subtle yet elegant parallelism between two separate
depictions of the second Iseut. When Iseut aux Blanches Mains overhears Tristan telling
Kaherdin of his secret love for Iseut la Blonde, Binding renders Bédier's "elle défaillit
presque" ("she almost fainted") as "die Sinne verließen sie fast" ("she almost lost her
senses"). Later, as she is standing over Tristan's corpse, Bédier describes her as "affolée
par le mal qu'elle avait causé" ("distraught over the evil she had caused"), which Binding
similarly translates as "fast von Sinnen durch das Unheil, das sie bewirkt" ("almost
87
senseless because of the evil she had caused"). While such repetition loses some of the
colorful and variegated language of the French, it nonetheless serves to add a layer of
resonance that underscores her character's trajectory in relation to Tristan, from the cause
of her vengeful act (his deceit) to its ultimate consequence (his death).
One detail of Martin's adaptation of Binding's translation arises from, and thus
highlights, an inherent ambiguity in the original French text—one that touches on the all-
important theme of fate. In act 1, scene 4, Tristan, having drunk the potion, is
soliloquizing upon his conflicting loves for Mark and Iseut. Bédier's Tristan says, "Bel
oncle, que n'avez-vous, dès le premier jour, chassé l'enfant errant venu pour trahir?"
32

Here, the participle "venu" can be grammatically interpreted in either the present perfect
or the past perfect tense. The context of the story seems to support the former, since the
imminence of Tristan's betrayal is manifest in the present by Tristan's love for Iseut,
rather than in the past, when Mark took him in as an orphan. This is clearly Binding's
reading, for he renders this as "[...] teurer Oheim, warum habt Ihr nicht vom ersten Tage
an das verirrte Kind von Euch gejagt, das gekommen ist, Euch zu verraten?"
33
Martin,
however, modifies this to "[...] mein Oheim, was habt Ihr nicht schon am ersten Tag
verjagt das verirrte Kind, das kam, Euch zu verraten?"
34
Here, the choice of the past
tense suggests instead that Tristan's anticipated betrayal of Mark was already destined to

32
"My dear uncle, what if you had, from the first day, driven away the errant
child come to betray you?" (author's translation)

33
"My dear uncle, why had you not, from the first day, driven away the errant
child who is come to betray you?" (author's translation and emphasis)

34
"My uncle, what if you had, from the first day, driven away the errant child who
came to betray you?" (author's translation and emphasis)
88
occur at the time Mark originally took him in. This reading, which is both grammatically
and contextually justifiable, reinforces and extends a theme that is central to the Tristan
legend in general, and Bédier's version in particular: that of an ominous, pre-determined
fate toward which the characters are inevitably driven throughout their lives.
35

Martin's decisions in reconciling the German underlay with his music may also
afford some additional insights into his musical and aesthetic priorities. For example,
while Branghien sings "Mais l'Ennemi s'est joué de nous trois, et c'est vous qui avez vidé
le hanap!"
36
the chorus simultaneously sings the same text with different rhythms, set to
an oscillating chordal motive that appears both earlier and later in the same scene. The
last part of this line ("c'est vous qui avez vidé le hanap") requires fewer syllables in
German ("und Ihr habt den Becher geleert"), and Martin changes the rhythm of
Branghien's part accordingly. In the choral part, however, he instead alters the German
text so as to include more syllables ("und so habt den Becher Ihr dann geleert"), enabling
him to preserve the chorus's increasingly active rhythmic underpinning. By thus adapting
the same text in two different ways, Martin highlights the distinct functions of these two
simultaneous musical layers, emphasizing the lyrical, melodic quality of Branghien's solo
on the one hand, and the accelerating rhythmic intensity of the chorus on the other.

35
Further confusion regarding this line arises from the fact that the published
scores conclude this sentence with an exclamation point, rather than the question mark
given in both Bédier's original and Martin's autograph score.

36
"But the Enemy has made sport of us three, and it is you who have emptied the
cup!" (Act 1, scene 6, at [26]).
89
Le Vin Herbé in English
On account of its great success, Bédier's Roman de Tristan et Iseut was soon
translated into many different languages. The most popular English rendering of the
novel was produced by Hilaire Belloc in 1903, although Belloc inexplicably omitted a
substantial portion of Bédier's text, including several whole chapters, many shorter
passages, and even individual words. In 1945, Paul Rosenfield filled in many of the
"gaps" in Belloc's rendition, and a more recently published version affords a still more
complete English version of Bédier's classic.
37
An English translation of the libretto of
Martin's oratorio, by Clive Williams, was included in the first commercial recording of
Le Vin Herbé in 1961. None of these translations, however, is suitable for performance.
The March 1948 issue of The Musical Times contains a review of a performance
of Le Vin Herbé by the Morley College Concerts Society, directed by Walter Goehr and
sung in English, to a translation by Clifton Helliwell (see Fig. 1, below). Around the
same time, on January 23, 1948, an English version of the oratorio (presumably the same
version, as its translation is also credited to Helliwell) received its first radio broadcast
performance.
38
No version of the work containing an English translation suitable for
performance has ever been published; however, a recent recording issued by Harmonia

37
Joseph Bédier and Hilaire Belloc, The Romance of Tristan and Iseult, New
York: Fonthill Press, n.d.
http://www.fonthillpress.com/Tristan/Book_Summary_Tristan.html

38
Roger Simpson, Radio Camelot: Arthurian Legends on the BBC, 1922-2005
(Woodbridge: D. S. Brewer, 2008), 28.

90
Mundi
39
includes an English translation (credited to Helliwell) that, upon scrutiny,
appears to have been intended as a performing translation. Two examples should suffice
to support this contention. In act 1, scene 1, Iseut's mother warns Branghien of the
philter's power, telling her, "Cache-le de telle sorte que nul oeil ne le voie et que nulle
lèvre ne s'en approche!"
40
Martin's musical setting dramatically divides the beginning of
this text into short phrases by the use of rests: "Cache-le / de telle sorte / que nul..."
Helliwell's translation renders this as "Mark you well! You shall conceal it. Not an eye
shall perceive it, and not a lip ever shall touch it!" This significantly changes the literal
meaning and structure of the original French, while adhering remarkably close to the
scansion and musical subdivision in Martin's setting. Similarly, Martin's act 1, scene 2
opens with the line, "La nef tranchant les vagues profondes emportait Iseut."
41
Here
again, Helliwell's version ("The ship sped on 'neath billowing sails bound for Cornwall's
shore.") appears far more concerned with maintaining the scansion and rhythmic contour
of the French than its literal meaning.

39
Daniel Reuss, dir., Le Vin Herbé (Der Zaubertrank). RIAS Kammerchor &
Scharoun-Ensemble. Harmonia Mundi compact disc HMC 901935.36, 2007.

40
"Hide it in such a way that no eye may see it and no lip may come near it."
(author's translation)

41
"The ship, cutting the deep waves, carried Iseut." (author's translation)
91
Fig. 1

Concert program from the first performance in England of Le Vin Herbé
(courtesy of Universal Editions)

Further evidence as to whether the translation given by Harmonia Mundi is, in
fact, Helliwell's performing translation of 1948, is found in the aforementioned Musical
92
Times review, which includes two direct quotations from the English text of the
performance:
42

1) 'To him she meekly called: All hail, my lord!'

2) Chorus: Tristan spoke:
Tristan: Then death may come!

The second quote represents both a literal and a metrical adherence to the original
French, and therefore its value in establishing a correlation between Helliwell's
performing translation of 1948 and that given by Harmonia Mundi is somewhat limited.
The first, on the other hand, affords a more idiosyncratic point of data. Helliwell's
rendering of "Entrez, Seigneur" as "All hail, my lord!" again suggests an emphasis on
metrical rather than literal correspondence, and clearly suggests its intention as a
performing translation. In the Harmonia Mundi version, however, this line is presented
slightly differently, as "To him meekly she called: All hail, my lord!" The slight variance
in word order between these two English renderings suggests two slightly different
rhythmic settings, each one a "hybrid" of Martin's distinct French and German rhythms.
The slight distinction between them could reflect a transcription error, either by the
anonymous reviewer, or perhaps by the author of the playbill libretto that likely served as
the reviewer's source. On the other hand, it might also indicate that Helliwell's

42
These quotations represent instances where Martin chose to maintain Bédier's
"phrases of attribution" in the narrative voice (i.e. generally relegating them to the
chorus), while allocating the dialogue itself to the appropriate character. The anonymous
reviewer presents them as evidence of the inherent awkwardness of this arrangement,
claiming that technically the dialogue itself is part of the narrative material, warranting no
such change of performer.
93
performing translation underwent revision at some point, subsequent to that 1948
performance.

Conclusion
As a dramatic adaptation of the ages-old Tristan legend, Martin's Le Vin Herbé
represents a single node in a vibrant literary tradition that has spanned more than eight
centuries. Over the course of that history, the legend has survived by continually
evolving to accommodate the shifting aesthetic tastes and cultural values of an ever-
changing audience. Like Bédier before him, like Wagner, like the various medieval
conteurs before that, and like every other Tristan redactor before and since, Martin found
something in the legend that was at once personal and universal. What he saw in Bédier's
prose was much more than merely "its extraordinary sense of rhythm, proportions and
ideal psychological movement"—he found a timeless story of a tragic love, irreconcilably
situated in conflict with its sociocultural context. Even better, perhaps, he found a
version of that story that reflected a profoundly different ethos than Wagner's immensely
popular one—a fact that must have afforded him some consolation in light of the
inevitable comparisons his subject matter would invite.
Like any redactor, Martin made the legend "his own" by clothing it in a unique
and intensely personal idiom. Triggered by Blum's commission, inspired by Charles
Morgan's novel, seized by the compelling directness of Bédier's prose, goaded perhaps by
the impact of Wagner's opera, and guided always by his own highly refined aesthetic
instincts, Martin gave the legend a fresh, new shape that was at once progressive and
94
nostalgic. In so doing, he joined the esteemed ranks of "les bons trouvères d'antan,
Béroul et Thomas, et Monseigneur Gottfried", and many others before and since, by
breathing new life into "ce conte d'amour et de mort".
95

CHAPTER 5: THE MUSIC OF LE VIN HERBÉ

General Features
Frank Martin originally conceived of the first act of Le Vin Herbé as a complete
musical and dramatic entity in itself, setting the fourth chapter of Bédier’s Le Roman de
Tristan et Iseut (“Le Philtre”) in its entirety, without alterations. He divided this chapter
into six separate tableaux, as suggested by the structure of the narrative:
On its own, the text divided itself into scenes which determined concise musical
forms, and were thereby more easily grasped. It is thus that Le Vin Herbé took its
shape and its form.
1

He composed this original version specifically for the twelve solo voices of the Zürcher
Madrigalchor, having received from their director, Robert Blum, a list of the individual
members and the characteristics of each singer’s particular voice. Each of the six men
and six women of the ensemble is specified in the score by a letter (SATB) and a number
from one to six, with one being the highest voice and six the lowest. Solo roles

1
"De lui-même, le texte se divisa en tableaux qui déterminèrent des formes
musicales concises et par là plus facilement saisissables. C’est ainsi que Le Vin Herbé
trouva ses moyens et sa forme." Frank Martin, Commentaires, 32 (author's translation).
96
(characters) corresponding to spoken dialogue in Bédier’s text are assigned to individual
singers as follows:
WOMEN MEN
S1. T1.
S2. Iseut (“la Blonde”) T2. Tristan
S3. Branghien T3. Kaherdin
A4. Iseut aux Blanches Mains B4. Le Roi Marc & “le vieillard”
A5. La Mère d’Iseut B5. Le Duc Hoël
A6. B6.

Martin later expanded the work to include two more acts, corresponding roughly to the
tenth and nineteenth chapters of Bédier’s novel (with some modifications and
interpolations). He also framed the work by the addition of a prologue and epilogue,
consisting of the first and last paragraphs of the Roman. Blum and his Madrigalchor gave
the premiere performances of both the original one-act version, on April 16, 1940, and
the extended three-act version, on March 28, 1942.
With respect to the role of the chorus in Le Vin Herbé, Martin explains his
intentions as follows:
Needing to make use of the chorus, I had the idea to have them tell a good part of
the story, and to have them accompany, in the background, some important solos,
in particular that of Branghien expressing the inevitable force of destiny.
2

As this would suggest, the narrative passages of Bédier’s text, constituting the bulk of the
libretto, are relegated to the choir. Martin assigns various passages of narration to
different combinations of singers, ranging from a single voice (generally marked solo) to

2
"Ayant à me servir du chœur, j’eus l’idée de lui faire dire une bonne partie du
récit, et de lui faire accompagner, en second plan, quelques grands solos, en particulier
celui de Branghien qui exprime la force inéluctable de la fatalité." Ibid., 31-2 (author's
translation).
97
the entire complement of twelve, enabling him to elicit a variety of colors and textures
from this small ensemble. For example, some passages employ only altos and basses for
a darker sound; others specify sopranos, altos, and tenors for a brighter sound; and still
others use groups of female and male voices in opposition. Unison textures are quite
common, while harmonic textures tend to be chordal and homophonic, affording
maximum textual clarity, and may comprise anywhere from two to six independent
voices, with or without octave doublings. Interestingly, Martin does not always call for
an equal balance of voices in these chordal passages; for example, the opening of the first
scene features three-part vocal writing, with five singers on the top line, and only one on
each lower part. Truly polyphonic vocal textures occur on only two occasions, neither of
which constitutes actual narration; rather, in both cases the chorus is called upon to
amplify, through immediate repetition, the words of a soloist. The first of these is when
Iseut’s mother warns Branghien about the power of the magic potion (in act 1, scene 1
beginning at [9]), and the second is when the old man mournfully informs Iseut of the
death of Tristan (in act 3, scene 6, beginning at [2]). Occasionally the choir is also called
upon to accompany a soloist. Here again, the effect is usually that of amplifying the
character’s words for particular dramatic emphasis, either by providing harmonic support
without text (as in act 1, scene 2 at [4]), or by repeating the soloist’s lines, whether
simultaneously (as in act 1, scene 2 at [6]) or consecutively (as in act 1, scene 6 at [22]—
the particular passage referenced by the composer above—as well as the two polyphonic
passages just cited). Martin’s setting of Bédier’s text is almost exclusively syllabic, using
flexible rhythms reflecting the natural cadence and scansion of the words. Melismas are
98
essentially absent, except for Iseut’s two impassioned cries of “Chétive!”.
3
In general,
the speech-like rhythms of the vocal parts are free of any imposed sense of meter or
regular hierarchical groupings, except for a few instances where Martin uses a repeating
rhythmic (and usually melodic) ostinato for dramatic effect.
Blum offered Martin the opportunity to score the work for seven or eight
accompanying instruments as well, and Martin elected to write for a complement of two
violins, two violas, two cellos, a double bass, and piano. The instrumental
accompaniment serves at times to double or provide harmonic support for the voices, and
in some cases even anticipates the vocal lines, assisting the singers by furnishing their
starting notes. At other times the instruments are more independent, and help to establish
the setting or context of a particular scene. Martin writes, “The instrumental part was to
be, if not secondary, at least modest, like the scenery in a play.”
4
His success in
effectively creating vivid scenic imagery through musical means is attested by these
comments, taken from the liner notes of a recording of the work issued in 2000:
Just as noble is the tone painting [Martin] draws from the unassuming ensemble
he chose as accompaniment. The strings’ impression of the poison spreading in
Tristan’s veins is one powerful, if eerie, example. At other times the composer
evokes with extraordinary precision the footfalls of Tristan returning from the
hunt, the flight of the wounded deer, the gleaming of Iseut’s gold ring, the wind
and rain lashing the boat during the storm that provokes Iseut’s long aria, the
lovers asleep in the clearing, the heartbreaking slow gait of the horse as the lovers

3
The first of these is her very first line, in act 1, scene 2 at [9], in which she
bemoans her fate as the ship carries her from her homeland toward Tintagel; the second is
found in act 3, scene 4 at [6] as Iseut’s voyage toward the dying Tristan is interrupted by
a ferocious storm.

4
"La partie instrumentale devait rester sinon secondaire, du moins modeste,
comme un décor dans une pièce de théâtre." Frank Martin, Commentaires, 31 (author's
translation).
99
leave the forest of Morois. It would be hard to find a moment of music lacking
empathy with the unfolding drama.
5

One simple yet particularly effective example of such picturesque instrumental scoring is
Martin’s representation of the movement of the boat at the opening of act 1, scene 2.
Here, using only the single pitch D in multiple octaves, Martin establishes an ostinato
pattern that begins with a surge of tonic and rhythmic energy, then gradually relaxes over
the course of two (or sometimes three) measures. The composite effect evokes the gentle
lurching sensation effected by the ocean waves on a ship large enough to accommodate
"the hundred knights of Cornwall", while at the same time providing a static tonal
reference point. This ostinato recurs three more times later in the work: at the end of the
first act, as a reminder of the ship’s continued progress toward Tintagel; in act 3, scene 3
as Tristan entreats Kaherdin to sail in search of Iseut; and in act 3, scene 4 as Iseut sails
toward Penmarch and her dying lover. In this respect, this particular musical gesture
takes on something of a leitmotivic function as well as a pictorial one.

Vocal Melody in Le Vin Herbé
Martin’s vocal writing in Le Vin Herbé, both for solo voices and ensembles, is
almost entirely written in a freely declamatory style akin to recitative. Rhythmically, the
relative durations of the notes in any given passage generally tend to fall within a very
narrow range, resulting in rhythms more akin to speech than to song. Free alternation
between duple and triple subdivisions of the beat helps to provide variety and maintain

5
Hank Lewis, brochure notes for Frank Martin, Le Vin Herbé, I Cantori di New
York, Newport Classic 85670.
100
rhythmic interest. Throughout the work, Martin’s chief objective would seem to be the
faithful projection of Bédier’s “perfect” prose. Stronger syllables are frequently accorded
varying degrees of relative emphasis by tonic and/or agogic accentuation, however
Martin rarely seeks to align these natural points of inflection with either the notated
metrical hierarchy, or any kind of regular metrical emphasis. Even when a recurring
pattern in the accompaniment suggests a particular cyclical grouping of pulses or metrical
regularity, the vocal parts generally retain their independence.
6
Occasional exceptions
can be found when the vocal parts fall into a repeating pattern, such as an ostinato,
7
but
such moments are rare and generally fairly brief.
As for other aspects of Martin’s melodic writing in Le Vin Herbé, such as pitch
content, contour, and phrasing, Tupper provides a suitable point of departure in her
characterization of Martin’s “middle period”
8
melodic style:
Changes in Martin’s choices for melodic structures are noticeable in the middle
period melodies, tending to smaller intervals and a chromatic elaboration of
phrase curves. Disjunct motion appears frequently and leads naturally to a more
active melodic line with a much greater range containing small fluctuations within
the basic directional curve. In contrast to this is a type of static line that contains
conjunct chromaticism and a very restricted range. All melodies show Martin’s
preference for an economy of means; he relies on sequences and the use of the

6
See, for example, the opening of act 1, scene 1, where the pedal ostinato gives a
clear sensation of quadruple meter, or from [6] to [8] in the same scene, in which the
accompaniment suggests first quintuple, then quadruple meter.

7
Notable examples can be found in Iseut’s aria in act 3, scene 4 (at [11] and again
at [18]) and the choral parts in act 1, scene 6 (at [24] and again at [26]).

8
While many scholars consider Le Vin Herbé to be Martin’s first mature work,
Tupper accords this honor instead to the Petite Symphonie Concertante of 1944-45,
designating Le Vin Herbé as a “middle period” work.
101
same interval types over and over again, with a marked predisposition for the
minor third and seconds.
9

These observations are certainly applicable to the vocal lines found in Le Vin Herbé, as a
few examples should suffice to illustrate. The first (Fig. 2) is taken from act 2, scene 5,
where Iseut proposes to Tristan that they visit the hermit Ogrin. Iseut’s fairly brief, self-
contained utterance suggests a closed musical form, which Martin furnishes in the form
of an elegant melodic arch comprising a gradual ascent followed by a somewhat more
rapid descent, thus uniting these two sentences into a single formal idea. At the same
time, however, Martin uses rests to subdivide the line into no fewer than seven distinct
segments, in accordance with the syntax. This manner of subdividing the melodic line
into short segments, characteristic of Martin’s vocal writing throughout the work, affords
the singers ample opportunity to breathe, while the continuous melodic curve helps to
preserve the unity of a larger musical and dramatic idea. The two consecutive
descending skips that conclude the passage constitute a cadential melodic formula that
Fig. 2
&
c ‰ j
œ # œ
‰ j
œ œ œ
Tris-tan, qu'il vous sou -
œ # œ
3
‰
œ œ
3
œ
j
œ
œ #
vien-ne de l'er-mite O - grin
œ œ # œ œ
œ
J
œ ‰
dans son bo-ca - ge.
&
Œ œ œ œ œ
œ n
Re - tour-nons vers lui,
œ
‰
J
œ # œ œ
œ #
œ
et puis-sions-nous cri -
.
œ #
J
œ
. œ
J
œ #
er mer - ci au
&
œ # œ œ œ
.
œ
J
œ
puis-sant Roi cé - les - te,
Œ
œ ˙
Tris - tan,
œ
Œ
˙
a -
˙ #
j
œ
‰ Œ
mi.
[9]
Iseut
S2.
dolce
dolciss.
poco più lento

9
Janet Eloise Tupper, “Stylistic Analysis of Selected Works by Frank Martin”
(PhD dissertation, Indiana University, 1964), 28-9.
102
Martin uses frequently throughout the work as a way of articulating larger structural
divisions (phrase groups), while also establishing a sense of tonic and melodic repose.
Where a slightly longer passage calls for a more controlled pacing of the melodic
contour, Martin’s “economy of means” becomes apparent, as in the scene where Tristan
asks Kaherdin to fetch Iseut (see Fig. 3). Here, Martin prolongs both the ascent and
descent of the melodic curve by the sequential treatment of short melodic motives. (In
the figure, the motive used in the ascending part of the phrase is indicated by brackets
V4
3
! ! ! ! !
V
! ! ! ! !
V
! ! ! !
V
! ! ! !
V
! ! ! ! !
, and the motive used in the descending part is indicated by dotted brackets
V4
3
! ! ! ! !
V
! ! ! ! !
V
! ! ! !
V
! ! ! !
V
! ! ! ! !
.)
Structurally, this passage is actually the final part of a much longer soliloquy, set off only
by a very short passage of choral narration. This is one of several places in Le Vin Herbé
Fig. 3
V 4
3
!
œ # œ
œ #
3
‰
œ œ
Hâ-tez-vous, com-pa -
F
œ
-
‰
j
œ #
3
œ œ œ
gnon, et ra - me -
œ n
"
œ
. œ
-
J
œ
nez I - seut la
˙
-
œ
Blon - de!
V
Œ ‰
J
œ b œ œ
Si vous tar -
œ
-
J
œ
‰ œ n œ
dez, vous ne
œ œ
œ
œ #
œ
-
me re - ver - rez plus.
J
œ
‰ Œ Œ !
V
Œ
3
‰
œ # œ
3
œ # œ
œ
-
V ous em - mè - ne - rez
f
œ œ œ
œ #
œ #
-
ma bel - le nef;
Œ Œ ‰
J
œ #
pre -
3
œ # œ œ
.
œ
-
J
œ #
nez a - vec vous deux
V
. œ #
-
J
œ
Œ
voi - les:
‰
J
œ n
3
œ œ œ œ œ
si vous ra - me-nez la
f
œ # œ
œ b
-
‰
J
œ
rei - ne_I-seut, dres -
3
œ œ œ œ œ
œ n œ
sez au re-tour la voi - le
V
˙ #
-
J
œ
‰
blan - che;
‰
J
œ # œ œ œ œ
et si vous ne la
3
œ # œ œ
œ
‰
j
œ
ra-me-nez pas, cin-
œ œ œ œ œ œ
glez a - vec la voi-le
˙ #
j
œ
‰
noi - re.
[21]
Tristan
T2.
poco cresc.
più
Con moto agitato q = 116
[22]
[23]
meno
riten. meno mosso
ritard.

103
where Bédier’s text includes an extended, unbroken monologue by a single character,
requiring Martin to devise more complex musical forms. Two more examples earlier in
the work both reflect Tristan’s inner struggle as he grapples with what Bédier calls the
“bitter conflict of love and law,”
10
once in act 1, scene 4 upon first experiencing the
philtre’s effects, and again in act 2, scene 3 in deciding whether to return Iseut to Marc.
The first of these, whose complete vocal melody is shown in Fig. 4, will serve well to
illustrate some of the ways Martin sought to derive satisfying musical forms from
Bédier’s prose. A summary of the melodic structure of this passage is given in Fig. 5.
By this analysis, the “economy of means” by which Martin fashions this lengthy
soliloquy into an aria with a clear formal design is readily made apparent. Martin
essentially divides this passage into five discernible phrase groups, each with its own
distinct arch-shaped contour, plus two short transitional passages. Textually, the line
“Ah! Qu’ai-je pensé?” reflects a dramatic transition in Tristan’s thinking, which Martin
sets to a gently descending melodic line. The entire text preceding this line is built on a
series of four vocative addresses: one to the four barons conspiring against him, and three
to King Marc, whom Tristan twice addresses as “bel oncle”. Tristan begins the aria by
naming the four “félons”, but rather than introducing the main melodic material (A) of
the aria at this point, Martin instead uses the opportunity to prefigure the material of the
later transition. This accomplishes several things: first, its resonance with the later
passage articulates a bipartite division of the aria, thereby strengthening the dramatic
impact of Tristan’s later change of heart; second, the more subdued melodic shape helps

10
See Chapter 3 for a discussion of this concept.
104
Fig. 4
V 4
3
! Œ œ œ
-
An - dret,
œ ‰
J
œ œ œ
De-no - a -
œ
-
j
œ
‰
3
‰
œ œ
lenn, Gué-né -
.
˙ #
-
lon,
Œ
œ n œ œ
Gon-do - ï -
V œ œ
Œ
ne,
Œ ‰
.
r
œ b
œ b
fé - lons
.
œ
J
œ b œ œ
qui m'ac-cu -
.
œ b
J
œ œ
œ
siez de con-voi -
œ œ
.
œ n
-
J
œ
ter la ter - re
œ
œ n ˙
-
du roi Marc,
V
Œ ‰
.
œ
>
ah!
J
œ ‰ ‰
J
œ # œ œ
je suis plus
œ
-
œ n ˙
vil en-cor,
J
œ
‰ ‰
J
œ œ œ
et ce n'est
œ b œ ˙
-
pa sa ter -
œ œ b ‰
j
œ œ œ
re que je con-
V
œ
-
œ #
Œ
voi - te!
2
Œ Œ ‰
j
œ b
Bel
˙ b
-
œ
on - cle,
‰ œ b
J
œ œ œ
qui m'a-vez ai -
œ b
-
œ œ œ
-
mé or-phe-lin
œ œ
œ n
a - vant
V
œ b
-
œ œ œ œ
mê - me de re-con -
œ b
-
. œ
J
œ
naî - tre le
. œ b
-
J
œ œ œ
sang de vo-tre
œ n
-
œ n œ œ
soeur, Blan-che-fleur,
‰
œ
-
J
œ œ œ
vous qui me pleu -
V
œ
œ b œ œ
-
riez ten - dre-ment,
‰
J
œ b
3
œ œ œ œ n œ
tan - dis que vos bras me
J
œ
œ b
-
J
œ œ n œ
por-taient jus - qu'à la
3
œ # œ œ
3
œ œ œ
œ n
-
bar-que sans ra - mes ni voi -
V
œ œ ‰
J
œ
œ #
le, bel on -
œ œ #
‰
J
œ
cle, que
œ
œ # œ
-
œ #
œ #
n'a-vez-vous, dès le
3
œ #
œ
œ #
-
.
œ
J
œ
pre-mier jour, chas -
f
.
˙
-
sé
.
œ
J
œ # œ n œ
l'en-fant er -
V
œ œ
œ # œ
œ n œ
rant ve-nu pour vous tra -
. ˙ n
-
hir!
j
œ
‰ Œ Œ
3
Œ ˙
Ah!
S
˙ Œ Œ ‰
j
œ
3
œ œ œ
Qu'ai - je pen-
V
.
˙ #
sé?
2
Œ ‰
j
œ b
œ b
-
I - seut
œ ‰
J
œ b œ œ
est vot - re
œ b
-
J
œ
‰
œ
fem - me, et
œ n
-
J
œ
‰ œ n œ
moi vo - tre
V
J
œ
.
œ
-
Œ
vas - sal,
Œ œ
œ #
-
I - seut
œ
‰
J
œ # œ œ
est vot-re
œ
-
J
œ
‰
œ
fem - me et
œ
-
œ b œ œ
-
moi vo-tre fils,
J
œ
‰ Œ
œ b
I -
V
. œ b
-
J
œ œ œ
seut est vot-re
. ˙ b
-
fem -
œ
J
œ b
‰ Œ
me
Œ
œ œ
et ne
œ
˙
-
peut pas
.
œ
.
œ
m'ai -
.
˙
mer.
˙ Œ
3
[4]
Tristan
T2.
Molto moderato
q = 66
[5]
[6]
[7]
[8]
[9]
[10]
[11]
très contenu
plus intense
plus légèrement
plus intense
cresc.
sempre f
avec éclat
[12] più f
più f
[13]

105
to effect a transition from the dramatic intensity of the preceding narrative passage to the
intimacy of Tristan’s inner world; third, it highlights the lower-level structural
subdivisions of the aria by playing on the assonance between “félons” and “bel oncle”;
and finally, it enables Martin to complete the row form begun by the chorus in the
preceding passage.
11

Fig. 5
V
œ
œ
œ # œ n œ b
œ b
œ b
œ
œ n
œ n
œ #
œ
œ n
œ b
œ
œ #
V œ b
œ b
œ b
œ
œ n
œ b
œ b
œ
œ n
œ n
V
œ
œ b œ n
œ b œ n
œ #
œ
œ n œ
œ #
œ
œ #
œ #
œ #
œ #
œ
œ #
œ
œ # œ n
œ
œ #
œ n
œ
V
œ
œ
œ # œ b
œ b
œ b
œ
œ n
œ n
œ #
œ œ b
œ b
œ
œ n
œ n
A
A'
A''
(Trans.)
(Trans.)
B
Andret... félons...
Bel oncle...
vous qui me pleuriez... bel oncle...
Ah! Qu'ai-je pensé? Iseut est... Iseut est... Iseut est...

Following this brief transitional introduction, Martin introduces the main melodic
material of the aria (A), which is then immediately reiterated in the following phrase
group (A’) but with a different ending, providing for a slightly higher climax tone. This
is followed by an extended passage of new material (B) consisting of two phrase groups
(the second beginning with “bel oncle”), and containing the tonic and dramatic climax of
the aria. In this manner, Martin’s carefully graduated escalation of the tessitura conveys
the intensifying trajectory of Tristan’s emotional state. The accumulated tension subsides

11
Martin’s use of tone rows and serial techniques will be discussed later in this
study.
106
as the transitional material conveys Tristan’s hesitation, after which the aria concludes
with a more extensive recapitulation of the main idea (A’’), retaining the modified
(higher) ending. The resulting melodic line allows for subdivision of the final phrase
group into three parallel phrase curves, each higher than the last, enabling Martin to
capture beautifully the striking, trifold repetition contained in Bédier’s prose.
In terms of its interval content, this example (as well as the previous two) clearly
illustrates the “predisposition for the minor third and seconds” Tupper has identified in
Martin’s works of this period, and which is characteristic of Le Vin Herbé as a whole.
Apart from the major third that serves as a headmotive for the three occurrences of the A
section (and only one other major third), the entire aria is composed exclusively of those
intervals. Furthermore, three of the four phrases conclude with the “cadential” gesture of
two consecutive falling intervals; and more specifically, all three of them conclude with
two successive descending minor thirds, a favorite cadential melodic gesture Martin
employs throughout the work. At moments of particular dramatic or emotional intensity,
however, Martin sometimes uses wider intervals to create a more volatile melodic
contour. An example of this (see Fig. 6) occurs where Iseut expresses her regret at not
having killed Tristan upon their first meeting.
107
Fig. 6
&
c
w b
Ah!
œ
‰
J
œ b
œ b
3
œ
J
œ
que n'ai - je_as - sé -
œ n œ œ œ
œ b œ œ
né sur lui, quand il gi -
&
3
œ b œ œ œ
‰
j
œ
3
œ b œ œ
sait dans le bain, le coup de l'é -
œ n œ œ œ œ
œ
pé - e dé - jà bran-di -
˙ œ
‰ J
œ
e! Hé -
. ˙ b
J
œ
‰
las!
&
œ œ œ œ
. œ #
j
œ #
je ne sa - vais pas a -
˙ # œ œ œ œ
lors ce que je
˙ œ œ
sais au - jour -
w b
d'hui.
[7]
Iseut
S2.
Quasi allegro q = 92
sempre animando
[8]
[9]
poco ritard
molto ritard.

The foregoing examples show how Martin uses melodic contour as a way of both
regulating dramatic intensity, and articulating musical structures—often on multiple
levels. Although the arch-shaped melodies shown here are highly typical of Martin’s
vocal melodic writing throughout the work, there are some notable exceptions. One
example is Iseut’s aria in act 2, scene 4, in which she conveys her own inner conflict,
stemming from the sacrifices she perceives Tristan to have made as a result of their exile.
Martin sets this soliloquy as a kind of da capo aria (ABA’). The melody of the opening
section (A), and its recapitulation in a slightly modified form at the end of the aria, are
shown in Fig. 7 and Fig. 8. Here, Martin once again constructs a phrase group by
subjecting a short melodic motive (indicated by brackets
V4
3
! ! ! ! !
V
! ! ! ! !
V
! ! ! !
V
! ! ! !
V
! ! ! ! !
) to sequential treatment.
In both cases, a solo viola provides a continuation of the rising line at the moment the
voice leaves off. The ascending contour of this five-note motive, combined with the
ascending sequence, gives each phrase group an overall upward inflection. In the first
case (A), Martin mitigates this slightly by concluding the vocal line with a brief melodic
descent, producing something of a melodic arch—albeit a highly asymmetric one. In the
108
recapitulation there is no such interruption in the sequence, and the upward trajectory of
the line is even more unrelenting. The overall impact of this design is a profound lack of
resolution, a sensation that is heightened as a result of the graceful, balanced melodic
curves that permeate so much of the melodic writing elsewhere in the work. This musical
effect reflects the dramatic context of the scene. Unlike Tristan’s parallel aria in the
previous scene, in which he ultimately resolves to leave the forest and return Iseut to
King Marc, Iseut’s doubts do not lead to any such resolution; rather, they are left to hang
in the air like an unanswered question.
Fig. 7
& 4
3
Œ Œ
œ #
Ce -
œ œ # œ
œ œ
œ #
œ
lui qui, par bel-le cour-toi -
œ
J
œ ‰
œ # œ
si - e, m'a don -
.
œ #
j
œ # œ
œ
né cet an-neau
&
˙ #
Œ
d'or
œ n œ
œ n
œ
œ
n'est pas l'homme ir - ri -
. œ b
J
œ œ œ
té qui me li -
.
œ n
œ b
J
œ
vrait aux lé -
&
œ ˙
Œ
preux.
(Vla. 1 solo)
dolce cantabile
[3]
œ ˙ # œ
.
œ n
J
œ
˙ n
œ œ œ
œ #
œ
œ
˙
j
œ
‰
Œ Œ
œ
Non,
&
!
&
Œ ‰
œ #
j
œ
Mais pour
A'
œ
‰
œ
j
œ
moi il ou -
œ # œ
œ œ
3
œ
œ #
œ
bli-e tou-te che-va-le -
œ
J
œ ‰
œ # œ
ri - e, e - xi -
.
œ #
œ #
J
œ
lé de la
˙ #
Œ
cour,
&
œ n œ
œ n
œ
œ
pour-chas - sé dans ce
œ b
‰
J
œ œ
bois, me-nant
3
œ œ œ
œ n
œ
œ
cet-te vi - e sau -
œ ˙
J
œ
‰
va - ge!
œ
. œ
J
œ #
. ˙
U
[2]
Iseut
S2.
Molto tranquillo q = 60
[7]
Iseut
S2.
(Vla. 1 solo)
A
a tempo
dolce

Fig. 8
& 4
3
Œ Œ
œ #
Ce -
œ œ # œ
œ œ
œ #
œ
lui qui, par bel-le cour-toi -
œ
J
œ ‰
œ # œ
si - e, m'a don -
.
œ #
j
œ # œ
œ
né cet an-neau
&
˙ #
Œ
d'or
œ n œ
œ n
œ
œ
n'est pas l'homme ir - ri -
. œ b
J
œ œ œ
té qui me li -
.
œ n
œ b
J
œ
vrait aux lé -
&
œ ˙
Œ
preux.
(Vla. 1 solo)
dolce cantabile
[3]
œ ˙ # œ
.
œ n
J
œ
˙ n
œ œ œ
œ #
œ
œ
˙
j
œ
‰
Œ Œ
œ
Non,
&
!
&
Œ ‰
œ #
j
œ
Mais pour
A'
œ
‰
œ
j
œ
moi il ou -
œ # œ
œ œ
3
œ
œ #
œ
bli-e tou-te che-va-le -
œ
J
œ ‰
œ # œ
ri - e, e - xi -
.
œ #
œ #
J
œ
lé de la
˙ #
Œ
cour,
&
œ n œ
œ n
œ
œ
pour-chas - sé dans ce
œ b
‰
J
œ œ
bois, me-nant
3
œ œ œ
œ n
œ
œ
cet-te vi - e sau -
œ ˙
J
œ
‰
va - ge!
œ
. œ
J
œ #
. ˙
U
[2]
Iseut
S2.
Molto tranquillo q = 60
[7]
Iseut
S2.
(Vla. 1 solo)
A
a tempo
dolce

109

Tonality
Martin considered tonality, meaning the organization of musical material around a
perceptible key center, to be an indispensible component in musical communication,
because it derives from natural acoustic principles and proportions. For this reason he
never entirely abandoned the use of a tonal center as an organizing principle in his music,
despite the fact that by the mid-1930s his musical language had become saturated with
chromaticism, and he had essentially abandoned the use of key signatures in his music.
His deliberate efforts at chromatic enrichment, together with his engagement with
Schoenberg’s techniques, often led to the use of aggregate harmonic sets,
12
whether
derived from a unifying tone row or not. The traditional concept of tonality—i.e., a
sensation established by the hierarchical emphasis of specific “functional” chord
structures, particularly in the context of certain “functional” progressions, and sustained
in part through the prevalence of a “diatonic” subset of pitch-classes—is largely
insufficient to explain Martin’s methods of tonal organization, which must therefore be
viewed through a different lens. Unlike music of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries,
in which tonal ambiguity is generally reserved for brief transitional passages between
larger sections characterized by a stable, clear sense of tonality, Martin’s music will often
linger in ambiguity for extended passages, or even suggest multiple simultaneous and
conflicting tonal centers.

12
An aggregate harmonic set involves the deployment of all twelve chromatic
pitch-classes, often in a harmonic or chordal texture, before any is repeated or reused.
110
“Gliding tonality” is a term that has often been associated with Martin’s music.
The term derives from Klein’s study of 1960, in which he describes a specific procedure
of tonal modulation characteristic of Martin’s mature works:
Martin tends to base his harmonic technique, due to his French culture, on a slow
modulation rhythm: he prefers to move away only imperceptibly from the original
tonality. The following procedure is, if not the rule, then at least typical of him:
first, in one or two voices a tiny melodic step is taken, so that the tonic is not yet
lost. With the newly won tones, slowly a new tonal complex is built up, the
ancillary being added to the existing, and only at this point is the previous tonic
then gently given up, if this is the intention of the composer, if he does not prefer
to turn around and return to the starting point. The result of this progression is a
virtually imperceptible modulation, a steady gliding across without any sudden
effect, almost as the colors of the spectrum merge into each other slowly, so that
you cannot tell where red ends and yellow begins. The distance of the target key
from the starting point is, by this typical process of Martin’s, usually great: this is
also a consequence of avoiding strong harmonic progressions, which generally
lead to neighboring keys by the circle of fifths, whereas reaching more distant
tonalities generates considerably less harmonic force. Other consequences of this
gliding modulation are the preference for expansive sound textures, which are
then enlivened by figurations and pedal points.
13

13
"Martin neigt auf Grund seiner harmonischen Technik, auf Grund seiner
französischen Kultur zu einem langsamen Modulationsrhythmus: am liebsten entfernt er
sich nur unmerklich von der Ausgangsonalität. Folgender Vorgang ist, wenn nicht die
Regel, so doch typisch für ihn: erst wird in einer Stimme, oder auch in zwei, ein winziger
melodischer Schritt vollzogen, ohne dass deshalb der Grundton schon verloren wird, mit
den neugewonnenen Tönen wird langsam ein neuer tonaler Komplex aufgebaut, der sich
akzessorisch zu dem bestehenden addiert, und erst in diesem Moment wird dann
behutsam der bisherige Grundton aufgegeben, wenn dies in der Absicht des Komponisten
liegt, wenn er es nicht vorzieht, wieder umzukehren und die Ausgangsbasis
wiederzugewinnen. Die Folge dieses Fortschreitens ist ein quasi unmerkliches
Modulieren, ein stetiges Hinübergleiten ohne Schockwirkungen, gleichsam wie wenn die
Farben des Spektrums langsam ineinander übergehen, ohne daß man sagen könnte, wo
das Rot aufhört und das Gelb beginnt. Die Entfernung der Zieltonart vom
Ausgangspunkt ist bei diesem für Martin so typischen Vorgang meistens groß: auch dies
ist eine Folge der Vermeidung des starken harmonischen Gefälles, wie es bekanntlich am
steilsten zu den Nachbar-Tonarten im Quintenzirkel führt, während das Erreichen
entfernterer Tonarten einem wesentlich geringeren harmonischen Zwang unterliegt.
Weitere Folgen dieser gleitenden Modulation sind die Vorliebe für ausgedehnte
Klangflächen, die dann gerne durch Figurationen belebt werden, und für Orgelpunkt."
111

In his 1970 study of Martin’s harmonic procedures, Billeter illustrates how this procedure
is put into practice, with reference to a specific example (see Fig. 9, below) from Le Vin
Herbé:
This passage leads from a D#-major triad to a B-flat-major triad. Because the B-
flat is then held as a pedal point for 15 measures, it can be said to go to B-flat by a
proper modulation. Here, the subdominant relationship of D# ≈ E-flat major to B-
flat major does not come in direct succession. Rather, that key objective appears
to be very far away, as if one had to travel all the way around the circle of fifths.
The modulation happens gently: usually only one voice of the chord moves at a
time, and almost always by minor seconds. The starting tonality is slowly
abandoned and the target tonality is gradually attained.
14

What both Klein and Billeter are describing is essentially a means of moving between
functionally related chords while occluding, or negating, their functional tonal
relationship. By the same token, they also illustrate a specific contrapuntal technique
found frequently in Martin’s music—a kind of “gliding counterpoint”, whereby different
harmonic voices move one at a time in gradual succession, usually by conjunct intervals

Rudolf Klein, Frank Martin: sein Leben und Werk (Vienna: Verlag Österreichische
Musikzeitschrift, 1960), 25 (author's translation and emphasis).

14
"Diese Stelle führt von einem Dis-dur- zu einem B-dur-Dreiklang. Weil das b
dann als Orgelpunkt 15 Takte lang liegenbleibt, kann von einer richtigen Modulation
nach b gesprochen werden. Dabei kommt aber das Subdominantverhältnis von Dis-dur ≈
Es-dur zu B-dur nicht zum Zug. Vielmehr scheint die Zieltonart sehr entfernt zu liegen,
wie wenn man um den Quintenzirkel herum schreiten müsste. Die Modulation geschieht
behutsam: meist bewegt sich nur eine Stimme des Akkords weiter, und fast alle
Tonschritte sind kleine Sekunden. Die Ausgangstonalität wird langsam verlassen und die
Zieltonalität sukzessive erreicht." Bernhard Billeter, Die Harmonik bei Frank Martin:
untersuchungen zur Analyse neuerer Musik (Berne: Verlag Paul Haupt, 1971), 67
(author's translation).

112
Fig. 9
&
?
?
2
3
2
3
2
3
Alto
Solo
!
Ó Ó
˙ ‹
Ó
w #
J
œ #
>
. œ # w
poco Sp
< >
< >
3
œ œ œ
‰
œ œ œ œ œ
Ca-che-le de tel- le sor - te
.
w
.
w
w
˙
. w
< >
3
Œ
œ œ œ œ œ ˙
que nul oeil ne le voie
˙ w
. w #
w ˙ #
˙ ˙ n
˙ #
&
?
?
œ œ œ œ
œ # œ
3
œ œ œ
et que nul - le lè - vre ne s'en ap -
.
w
˙
w
.
w
.
w
œ n œ
Ó Ó
pro - che!
. w n
w ˙
˙
w #
w # ˙
w ˙ #
Andante h = circa 52
[5]
1
2
3
4 5*
6
7 8
9
10 11
12
Viola
1 & 2
Cello
1 & 2

and often exclusively by semitones.
15
In the New Grove Dictionary article on Frank
Martin, Billeter offers a summary of the composer’s mature style as particularly
exemplified in Le Vin Herbé. Here, with a nod to Klein, he draws a link between this
procedure and the sense of tonal instability found in Martin’s works, noting, “As a result
of Martin’s ‘gliding tonality’, a movement rarely ends in its initial key."
16
This phrase
“gliding tonality” has since been proliferated through numerous writings on Martin’s
style as a way of describing his often subtle, perhaps even loose approach to tonal
organization.

15
A similar technique, applied within a more overtly tonal context, can be found
in Chopin’s “Prelude in E minor” (Op. 28, no. 4).

16
Billeter, “Frank Martin” in New Grove Dictionary, 716.

113
In Le Vin Herbé, Martin uses a variety of techniques to establish (or sometimes
negate) a particular tonality, and the degree to which the music supports the perception of
any such tonal center varies widely throughout the work. Here, some general stylistic
observations by Tupper, as well as some more specific ones by Billeter, will afford a
useful point of departure for an investigation into the harmonic and tonal language of this
particular work. Tupper asserts,
The fundamental basis for the formation of chord successions in Martin’s music is
essentially that of the classical system of tonal harmony. That is, no matter how
complex the individual chords become, or with what rhythm the music moves, it
still adheres to a ‘key centered’ tonality.
17

She goes on to highlight the distinction between “functional” harmonies, consisting of
chords that relate to each other in tonic, dominant, and subdominant capacities, and “non-
functional” harmonies, which include “non-directive” progressions with root movements
by seconds or thirds, parallel chord streams such as those favored by Debussy and Ravel,
and “novel uses of sonorities, frequently of a contrapuntal nature”.
18
She observes that
over the course of Martin’s compositional development, the functional harmonic
progressions that anchor the tonal structure are drawn further and further apart:
The indication of harmonic growth in Martin’s music is the time span involved
within the harmonic phrase, during which non-essential (or “non-functional”)
connections between chordal pillars (or “functional” chords) varies [sic] in scope
and complexity. The late works show a considerable subtlety in regard to the

17
Tupper, "Stylistic Analysis," 62.

18
Ibid., 63.
114
treatment of non-essential material within a lengthened time span between
functional chords.
19

In contrast to Tupper, Billeter suggests that Martin’s mature chord progressions,
and particularly those found in Le Vin Herbé, do not always in themselves assert a
particular “key centered tonality”, and that in such instances it is often the bass that acts
in this capacity. Citing the progression introduced at the beginning of act 1, scene 1
(which recurs later in the work), he writes:
In all these examples the bass pedal is maintained, so that it is partially a
foundation of the tonality, and partially a primary tonal element that holds
together developments that are tonally ambiguous.
20

This suggests two important points: first, that the bass lines found in Martin’s mature
works do not always support the harmonies they underlie, but rather tend to take on an
independent character; and second, that these bass lines often play a greater role in
establishing a perceptible tonal center than the chord successions themselves—
particularly when prolonged as pedal tones. Tupper also recognizes this increasing
independence of the bass line as a feature of Martin’s later works, and even draws a
connection between this trend and the gradual expansion of his harmonic phrases:

19
Ibid. Earlier in her study, Tupper describes this phenomenon as a manifestation
of the concept of “chord prolongation” advanced by Heinrich Schenker and Felix Salzer
(Ibid., 8-9).

20
"Bei all diesen Beispielen bleibt der Bass liegen, ist also teilweise Grundton der
Tonalität, teilweise aber eher ein primär klangliches Element, das Entwicklungen
zusammenhält, die tonal nicht eindeutig sind." Billeter, Die Harmonik bei Frank Martin,
69 (author's translation).
115
As Martin’s works matured, he followed his inclinations toward chromaticism,
which made its influence felt upon the root movement. The bass lines took on a
melodic character that had been less noticeable previously, and the time spans
became longer between functional chords.
21

At the same time, Tupper maintains that functional harmonic relationships continue to
play an important role in the establishment of tonal centers, even if they are sometimes
relegated to the (largely independent) bass line, and even if the functional “progressions”
they outline take place over increasingly large time spans:
Except for a brief period from 1930 until 1932, Martin did not give up the
“functional bass”, and even in the mature chromatic works there are pages of
tonic, dominant, and subdominant relationships which have been only somewhat
disguised by the use of a coloring by chromatic inflections above the bass.
22

Finally, building on the work of William E. Thomson and Paul Hindemith, Tupper
postulates a loose methodology for analyzing tonality (or perceived tonal emphasis) in
Martin’s mature works, on the basis of (1) the relationships between constituent harmonic
tones in the hierarchy of the overtone series, and (2) other factors creating tonal
emphasis, including contextual position, duration, repetition, loudness, and boundary
tones. She later applies this methodology to the final measures of act 3, scene 6 in Le Vin
Herbé as evidence of the establishment of C as a local tonic, while also pointing out that

21
Tupper, "Stylistic Analysis," 65. Earlier in her study, Tupper describes this
phenomenon as a manifestation of the concept of “stratification” advanced by Edward T.
Cone (ibid., 7-8). Billeter notes in this respect a particular affinity with the music of
Debussy (Die Harmonik bei Frank Martin, 37).

22
Tupper, "Stylistic Analysis," 69.
116
the harmonies of the inner voices simultaneously contradict this perception, instead
suggesting first F# and then Ab as momentary tonal centers.
23

Many of the characteristics identified by Tupper, including the stretching out of
functional progressions (“chord prolongation”), the independence of the bass line
(“stratification”), and the prevalence of non-functional harmonic progressions, have the
effect of occluding the presence of tonal centers in Martin’s mature compositions. One
consequence of this is the decoupling, to a certain extent, of formal and harmonic
elements, such that the articulation of structural divisions between phrases, phrase
groups, and sections often occurs independently of the harmony—at least in a functional
sense. In other words, cadences, in the sense of structural resting points, are rarely
supported by functional harmonic progressions, as they would tend to be in a classically
tonal scheme. Instead, structural repose is largely achieved through alternate means,
including melodic repose (often signaled by two consecutive descending leaps), rhythmic
stasis, harmonic stasis (i.e., the prolongation of a concluding harmonic structure),
dissipation of dynamic energy, relaxation of the tempo, a momentary break (such as a rest
or division between scenes) or thinning of the musical texture, or a harmonic “resolution”
characterized by a decrease in the relative level of dissonance that often (though not
always) leads to a triadic sonority. Because of the complex and often subtle ways Martin
deals with tonality, it is not always useful or appropriate to attempt to determine a
prevailing tonal center for each section or musical passage. What is more instructive is to
identify specific instances where a particular tonal center is momentarily affirmed or

23
Ibid., 81-2.
117
suggested. In Le Vin Herbé, Martin accomplishes this through a variety of techniques,
several of which will be illustrated in the following examples.
One of the most common ways Martin establishes a tonal center is by the
prolongation of a particular tone as a pedal, usually (though not always) in the bass.
Examples of pedal tones abound throughout Le Vin Herbé, and serve as an important
articulator of tonal structure. The continuous B pedal that underlies most of the prologue
is one example. Similarly, an extended A# pedal recurs throughout act 1, scene 1 and
serves to anchor the tonal structure of that scene, underlying the first 19 measures, the
last 14 measures, and another 15-measure passage between [6] and [9].
24
The D pedal
ostinato representing the boat in act 1, scene 2 and elsewhere (discussed earlier) is one
example of a non-bass pedal tone; others include the sustained tremolo notes used
throughout act 3, scene 3, and the double pedal C at the end of act 3, scene 6 (the passage
analyzed by Tupper, as discussed above), which employs both bass and non-bass pedal
points simultaneously.
Occasionally, Martin creates the impression of a localized tonic by means of a
chord progression suggesting a dominant-to-tonic harmonic relationship. In this example
from act 2, scene 5 (Fig. 10), the B-major chord that punctuates the conclusion of Iseut’s
line moves to an E-minor chord (with an added C-natural) at the start of the final choral
narration. This narrative passage comes to rest on this same sonority again fourteen
measures later, marking the conclusion of act 2. The same chord is also found at the end
of act 2, scene 1, as well as the very beginning of that scene (voiced an octave higher),

24
For part of this middle section, the A# is spelled enharmonically as B-flat.
118
providing a kind of tonal framework for the entire act. Furthermore, the texture and
harmony of this final narrative section parallel the conclusion of act 2, scene 1,
establishing a resonance between the lovers’ entrance into the forest and their departure.
The dominant-to-tonic progression articulated in this example serves to highlight this
tonal and thematic return, heightening that resonance and thus the internal unity of the
second act.
Fig. 10
&
&
?
c
c
c
Œ
œ ˙
Tris - tan,
w
w
w
w
b
?
w
w
b
œ
Œ
˙
a -
w
w
w
b
w
˙ #
j
œ
‰ Œ
mi.
Ó
œ
œ
œ
#
J
œ
œ
œ
‰
Ó
œ
œ
#
j
œ
œ
‰
!
"
?
w
w
w
#
w
w
#
?
?
?
Œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Ils é - veil -
w
w
w
w
w
#
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
lè - rent Gor - ve -
w
w
w
œ
¯
œ
¯
œ #
¯
œ #
¯
˙
˙
#
#
˙
˙
#
Ó
nal;
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
#
#
#
Œ
œ
¯
œ
¯
œ #
¯
œ #
¯
[10]
Iseut:
Chorus:
Molto tranquillo q = 60

Such overtly functional progressions are rare, however, and are frequently
occluded by chromatic alteration of one or both chords, and/or by the independent nature
of the bass line, as in the last two bars of the example discussed earlier (Fig. 9, above).
With the exception of the bass note, the final sonority of the concluding phrase is an
119
enharmonically respelled dominant seventh chord built on F, which then resolves to B-
flat major, further supporting the establishment of the ensuing B-flat pedal as a perceived
tonal center. Although the tonal force of this progression is somewhat diminished by the
bass C#, its tonicizing effect remains palpable.
Much more common are instances where the bass voice alone suggests such a
progression, tonicizing a particular note by approaching it from a perfect interval (i.e.,
from a fourth below or a fifth above). One example of this occurs at the end of act 1,
scene 3, where a prolonged F pedal moves to a similarly prolonged B-flat pedal. While
this tonal “suggestion” is not supported by the harmony (which essentially remains
unchanged), it is nevertheless emphasized by the extended duration of the two pedal
notes, as well as its conspicuous placement at the end of the scene. Furthermore, this
passage echoes an identical progression occurring at the midpoint of the scene, giving it
even greater significance as a unifying structural device. Sometimes (as in the example
shown in Fig. 9, above) these tonicizations reach across structural joints, so that the
tonality of “resolution” coincides with the beginning of a new section or passage.
Another example of this is seen in the A# pedal underlying the opening part of act 1,
scene 1, which serves tonally as a functional “resolution” of the E# major chord that
concludes the prologue, as Billeter has noted.
25

Consonant harmonic structures, such as major or minor triads and open fifths,
tend to stand out sharply in contrast to Martin’s highly chromatic and often dissonant
musical language. Sometimes their mere presence is sufficient to suggest or support the

25
Billeter, Die Harmonik bei Frank Martin, 64.
120
perception of a particular tonal center—particularly when these sonorities are emphasized
by virtue of their position in the musical structure, such as when they occur at the
beginnings and ends of phrases, sections, or entire scenes. In act 2, scene 5, for example,
the phrase groups that begin at [1], [2], and [5] each begin with a conspicuously “tonal”
sonority (connoting F# major, E major, and F minor, respectively). Of the twenty scenes
that constitute the work (including the prologue and epilogue), five conclude with a major
chord, two with a minor chord, and four with open fifths. At other times, these tonally
suggestive sonorities are deliberately juxtaposed in non-functional progressions, so as to
subvert, rather than support, the perception of a stable tonal center. In act 2, scene 2 at
[3], for example, an emphatic B dominant seventh harmony resolves unexpectedly to D
major. Similarly in act 2, scene 1, six measures before [4], the pair of consecutive major
triads that underscore Tristan’s heroic rescue of the queen are startling, yet any tonal
suggestion they might otherwise afford is undermined by their non-functional
relationship (C major to A major), as well as the cross-relation they contain.
In summary, the musical language of Le Vin Herbé is thoroughly infused with
what might be termed “tonal sensibility”. With rare exception, tonality does not appear
to serve in the classical sense as an organizing force in the musical structure, wherein a
particular tonal center is sustained throughout the course of a large section or passage;
rather, momentary and often fleeting affirmations of various tonal centers occur
intermittently throughout the work. These tonal suggestions are proffered by means of
four main techniques: (1) the prolongation of a particular tone as a pedal, usually (though
not always) in the bass; (2) the suggestion of a local tonic by means of a functional
121
harmonic progression (i.e. a succession of harmonic sonorities suggestive of an authentic
cadence); (3) the suggestion of a local tonic through the emphasis of a functional melodic
interval in the bass (i.e., a descending perfect fifth or ascending perfect fourth); and (4)
the conspicuous use of tonally suggestive sonorities (e.g., major and minor triads), which
are often emphasized by virtue of their duration and/or structural placement (e.g., at a
point of repose). While these suggestions of tonality may occasionally work together to
articulate large-scale musical structures by establishing resonances among various
musical passages, such resonances are far more frequently generated through the
recurrence of thematic or motivic material, such as a particular chord progression.

Harmonic Language
With respect to Martin’s harmonic language, Tupper observes, “There is a
surprising uniformity of sonority types in the vertical structures of Martin’s music.”
26

This trait, readily discernible in Le Vin Herbé, can be regarded as another manifestation
of the “economy of means” she identifies as a prevailing characteristic of his musical
language. As noted earlier, these vertical structures frequently comprise two distinct
compositional elements or “strata”: a succession of chords constituting a primary
harmonic progression, and a largely independent bass line. In an interview with Jean-
Claude Piguet, Martin explains this phenomenon as it pertains to two specific examples
from Le Vin Herbé:

26
Tupper, "Stylistic Analysis," 52.
122
FM: …I have often employed chords that created in themselves the tonality, but
where the bass plays a role of coloration, or frequently even a purely melodic role.
With the G minor chord [fourth measure of [13]], for example, I had an F# in the
bass which is actually part of the tonality, but is all the same foreign to the chord.
[Fig. 11]

Fig. 11
V
&
?
4
3
4
3
4
3
!
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
n
#
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ ‹
n
#
œ
œ #
#
œ
œ #
#
œ
œ #
#
f
f
˙
>
œ
Di - tes
!
!
‰
J
œ œ œ œ œ
ce que vous vou-lez
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
#
.
˙ #
.
˙ #
œ œ œ œ œ
man-der à la
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
œ
˙ #
.
˙
˙ b œ
rei - ne,
œ
œ
œ
œ n
n
b
. œ
œ
œ
œ
b
.
Œ
œ
œ #
#
.
œ
œ
#
.
Œ
V
&
?
Œ œ b œ
et je
˙
˙
˙
˙
b
Œ
˙ #
Œ
˙ b œ
fais mes
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
. œ
œ
œ
œ
b
.
Œ
œ
œ
.
œ
œ
.
Œ
œ ˙ b
ap -
!
˙
˙
˙
˙
#
b
˙ Œ
˙ b
Œ
prêts.
Œ
œ
œ
œ
œ b
b
b
b
.
Œ
œ
œ
œ
œ b
b
b
b
.
œ
œ
.
œ
œ
.
Œ
!
.
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
˙ b
b
b
b
.
˙
!
.
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
˙
.
˙
Œ Œ
.
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
˙
.
.
˙
˙
[13] Più mosso
dolce
string.

JCP: I thought I found an example of that in Le Vin Herbé, in a passage where it
seems to me that the harmony is given by the perfect triad* and the bass is like an
appoggiatura, just next to the harmony.

FM: Yes, there the G minor chord really provides the harmonic sense, the tonal
sense, and the bass gives an F#, which has expressive or melodic meaning.

JCP: So the bass there follows an independent melodic course. But there the
resolution of the dissonance in the bass is still a passing tone, in the traditional
analytical sense. Are there not cases where the false bass, as I say without any
pejorative connotation, is otherwise justified?

FM: I often create an entire harmonic progression over a bass pedal, for example;
the bass can be extraordinarily dissonant, the chord may diverge from it strongly,
123
but the function of the bass pedal justifies it. I have an example in this respect
that is taken from Le Vin Herbé. [Fig. 12]

Fig. 12
&
?
2
3
2
3
c
c
!
Œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
p
.
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
˙ b
b œ
œ
œ
b
b
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙ n
œ
œ
œ n
b
b
˙
˙
˙
#
j
œ
œ
œ
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
n
j
œ
œ
>
‰
.
.
œ
œ
Sf
&
?
œ
œ
œ
n
b
b
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
b
œ n
.
.
˙
˙ b
w
˙
˙
˙ b
b
˙
˙
n
˙
˙ b
˙
˙
b
w
œ ˙ œ b
œ b
œ n
˙
˙ œ b
œ . ˙
œ
œ œ n
˙
. ˙ #
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
n
b
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
n
b
. ˙
[8] Più largo

JCP: Here, it is the A that is the bass; what happens above it?

FM: There is a series of chords that have meaning independently of the pedal.

JCP: I notice that they are almost all perfect triads*. The most typical behavior of
your bass lines, however, is where the bass moves on its own and engenders its
own movement, which is no longer only melodic, but harmonic, [from] a tonal
perspective.
27

27
FM: …j’ai souvent employé des accords qui créaient en eux-mêmes la tonalité,
mais où la basse joue un rôle de coloration, ou fréquentement même un rôle purement
mélodique. Sur cet accord de sol mineur, par exemple, j’ai à la basse un fa dièse qui fait
bien partie de la tonalité, mais qui est tout de même étranger à l’accord. [Fig. 11]

JCP: J’avais cru trouver à cela un exemple dans le Vin Herbé, dans un passage où
il me semble que l’harmonie est donnée par l’accord parfait et la basse est comme un
appoggiature, un peu à côté de l’harmonie.

FM: Oui, l’accord de sol mineur y donne vraiment le sens harmonique, le sens
tonal, et la basse donne un fa dièse, qui a un sens expressif ou mélodique.

JCP: La basse suit donc là un cours mélodique autonome. Mais la résolution de la
dissonance par la basse y fait encore figure de note de passage, au sens traditionnel de
124

This discussion illuminates several key aspects of Martin’s approach to the use of
harmony in Le Vin Herbé, as a closer examination of each of the examples addressed here
will show. In the first example, the “primary” harmonic element (excluding the bass)
consists of a series of four ostensibly tonal chords: an E# diminished-seventh chord
(embellished by a kind of suspension figure), a G minor chord, a C# diminished seventh
chord, and an E-flat minor chord. This can be construed as a two-chord progression that
is then repeated sequentially, four semitones lower. A diminished-seventh chord is one
of the most functionally versatile and tonally suggestive of all sonorities, having the
potential in a tonal context to give strong support to any of eight possible tonalities (four
major and four minor) by the resolution of any of its factors as a leading tone, or to give

l’analyse. N’y a-t-il pas des cas où cette fausse basse, comme je dis sans aucune nuance
péjorative, est justifiée autrement?

FM: Il m’arrive souvent de créer tout un enchaînement harmonique sur une pédale
de basse, par exemple; la basse peut alors être extraordinairement dissonante, l’accord
peut s’en écarter fortement, mais la fonction de la basse en tant que pédale le justifie. J’ai
un exemple à cet égard qui se trouve dans le Vin Herbé. [Fig. 12]

JCP: Ici, c’est le la qui est la basse; que se passe-t-il au-dessus?

FM: Il y a une série d’accords qui ont un sens indépendamment de la pédale.

JCP: Je remarque que ce sont presque tous des accords parfaits*. Le cas le plus
typique dans votre conduite des basses est pourtant celui où la basse se déplace elle-
même et engendre par son propre mouvement, qui n’est alors plus seulement mélodique,
mais harmonique, la perspective tonale.

Martin & Piguet, Entretiens, 58-60 (author's translation).

*N.B.: The French term “accord parfait” is used to refer to both major and minor
triads; there is no English equivalent in common usage, so the nearest equivalent “perfect
triad” (as used by Billeter in his New Grove article) is adopted here.
125
somewhat weaker support to any of eight more tonalities (four major and four minor) by
resolution via a common-tone progression. Martin avoids all of these potential
“resolutions”, however, undermining any such tonal associations through the use of a
deliberately non-functional progression. The tonally distant, non-functional relationship
between G minor and E-flat minor, as well as the cross-relation they produce, further
subverts the sense of a stable tonal center. Meanwhile, the bass line is carefully
constructed so as to add dissonant “coloration” to the harmonies; the F# and the D each
clash strongly with both of the chords they underlie.
28
From this analytical perspective,
then, it is not the bass F# that presents itself as a passing tone, as Piguet suggests (or more
accurately, an appoggiatura, as he initially calls it)—rather, it is the E that provides a
melodic connection between the two parallel harmonic structures, despite its being less
dissonant in relation to the upper harmonic structure.
The second example (Fig. 12, above) illustrates a slightly more varied application
of this procedure, while providing a perfect illustration of Billeter’s concise summation
of Martin’s mature style:
In the accompaniment, perfect triads are moved in unusual progressions.
Dissonant chords are developed in smooth part-writing, often over a static bass
which indicates the momentary tonal centre.
29

28
Two of the resultant harmonies, each consisting of a minor triad combined with
a bass note a semitone below its root, exemplify one of the most frequently used
sonorities in Le Vin Herbé. From a structural perspective, this is often used as a chord of
repose; for example, each of the first two scenes in act 1 concludes with this sonority,
producing an unsettling effect.

29
Billeter, “Frank Martin” in New Grove Dictionary, 716.
126
In this example, a continuous bass pedal on A underlies a succession of sonorities
constituting mostly perfect triads. The half-diminished-seventh chord at the end of the
fifth measure can be considered an embellishment of the E major chord by means of a
suspension (D-flat to B) and a retardation (B-flat to B), while the momentary sonorities
on beats three and four of the sixth measure can be interpreted as non-essential passing
harmonies between the E major and C minor chords, as a consequence of Martin’s
“gliding counterpoint” (as discussed earlier). The “unusual” progression that emerges
consists of the following, largely non-functional succession of chords: C minor, A-flat
major, D major, B-flat minor, E major, and C minor. All of these chords are deliberately
chosen so as to be dissonant against the bass pedal (as in the first example), with the sole
exception of the D-major chord. This sole consonant sonority stands out sharply in
context, and is afforded additional emphasis through both tonic and dynamic
accentuation. (From a textual and dramatic standpoint, this reflects the impact of Iseut’s
arresting beauty on the marveling Bretons.) Of the remaining harmonies, all of them
produce the particularly strong clash of a semitone with the bass except for the C-minor
chord, a relative consonance that Martin employs as a point of repose at the beginning
and end of the phrase group.
As Tupper has noted, another technique Martin frequently employs in Le Vin
Herbé in “deliberate violation” of the system of functional harmony is the use of parallel
chord streams.
30
A typical example of this technique is found in act 3, scene 4 (Fig. 13),
in which a chromatically descending series of augmented triads is used to depict the

30
Tupper, "Stylistic Analysis," 63.
127
buffeting of the ship by the storm. Later in that same scene, parallel first-inversion major
triads are arranged more freely to generate a chromatic melody (Fig. 14, below). In this
case, the independent bass line adds an additional contrapuntal element, moving in
similar (though rarely parallel) motion and always maintaining the dissonant clash of a
semitone against one other harmonic voice. Meanwhile, the descant played by the first
Fig. 13
?
c ‰
J
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
et fait tour -
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
n
3
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
n
ner la nef sur el - le - mê -
œ
œ
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
b
n
‰ Ó
me.
A 4.5.6. T 1.2.
T 3. B 4.
B 5.6.

Fig. 14
&
&
?
C
C
C
˙ #
!
6
˙
!
6
Ó
3
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
les ma - ri -
Œ
œ
j
œ
‰
œ
F
F
F
cresc.
cresc.
˙ #
!
6
œ #
!
3
œ
!
3
œ
œ
œ
#
#
#
œ
œ
œ
3
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
niers bais - sent la
œ #
œ #
j
œ
‰
œ
&
&
?
œ
!
. ˙ #
!
œ
œ
œ
j
œ
œ
œ
‰
3
Œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
voi - le et lou -
˙ #
Œ
œ
œ
!
œ #
!
œ
!
œ #
!
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
#
n
voi - ent au gré de l'on -
œ n
‰
j
œ #
œ
œ #
œ
!
˙
!
œ #
!
3
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
n
#
#
de_et du vent.
J
œ ‰
œ #
˙ #
S 1.3. A 4.5.6. Vln. II
T 1.2.3. Vla. I
B 4.5.6. Vla. II
Vln. I & Vc. I
Vc. II & Cb.

violin and first cello adds a fourth voice to the stream of parallel chords, infusing what at
first glance appears to be a series of consonant sonorities with an even greater level of
dissonance. Parallel chord streams derived from more complex, dissonant harmonic
structures are used to accompany moments of particular dramatic intensity, such as the
128
mourning of Tristan in act 3, scene 6, or of ominous foreboding, such as Duc Hoël’s line
in act 3, scene 1. The essential progression that accompanies the latter is summarized in
Fig. 15. Here, a dissonant chord formation
31
is deployed in a series of chromatically
descending streams. The independent vocal melody (not shown), doubled by first viola
and first cello in octaves, contributes an additional layer of harmonic and contrapuntal
enrichment.
Fig. 15
&
?
œ
œ
œ n
n
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ b
b
!
œ
œ b
b
œ
œ
œ n
n
b
œ
œ
( )
œ
œ
œ b
b
!
,
œ b
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ b
b
œ
œ
œ #
#
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
n
!
œ
œ b
b
œ
œ
œ n
n
b
,
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
#
œ
œ #
#
œ
œ
œ n
n
b
,
œ
œ n
n
œ
œ
œ #
#
œ #
œ
œ
œ n
n
b
œ n
œ
œ
œ #
#
œ

One of the most conspicuous and extensive uses of this technique underlies the
“love theme”, a long-breathed melody (generated from a tone row) that is played by a
solo violin at several key points throughout the work.
32
Martin accompanies this melody
with a repeated quarter-note figure in the strings, consisting of a succession of harmonic
sonorities that gradually trace an arch-shaped trajectory by means of chromatic,
essentially parallel motion. In this case, however, Martin combines this technique with
the “gliding counterpoint” technique described earlier, so that the motion of the
uppermost voice is occasionally asynchronous with that of the others. (A summary of

31
This sonority is structurally very similar to the one that occurs twice in the
example shown in Fig. 10 (above) and found frequently throughout the work, consisting
of a minor triad sounding over a bass note one semitone below its root.

32
The melodic structure of this theme will be examined in more detail later in this
study.
129
this progression is shown in Fig. 16.) As a result, the vertical sonorities are no longer
invariant; rather, they occur in two slightly different harmonic versions: a half-
diminished-seventh chord and a major-seventh chord (both voiced in third inversion).
This affords greater harmonic variety to this more extensive passage than sixteen parallel
iterations of the same chord structure would yield. Furthermore, throughout the
progression the relative frequency of the two variants gradually shifts, so that while the
first variant is emphasized in the opening, by the end it is the second, more dissonant
version that predominates. This produces a subtle increase overall in the perceived level
of harmonic tension.
Fig. 16
&
?
œ
œ
œ
#
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
n
œ #
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
n
œ #
œ
œ
œ
b
n
n
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
b
œ b
œ
œ
œ n
œ n
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ #
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
n
œ n
&
?
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ #
œ
œ
œ
n
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ n
œ
œ
œ
b
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ n
œ
œ
œ
b
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ #
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ n
Vla. I
Vln. II
Vla. II
Vc. II

The careful control of dissonance as a means of tempering the quality of musical
and/or dramatic movement is a technique that informs Martin’s harmonic language
throughout Le Vin Herbé. A more concise example of this principle is found in the
musical gesture that accompanies the brewing of the magic philtre in act 1, scene 1. This
gesture (Fig. 17) is repeated several times in succession in the manner of an ostinato, and
forms part of a larger harmonic progression that also recurs at several key structural
130
points throughout the work. Together with the A# pedal of the bass (not shown), the
eleven pitch-classes contained in this example constitute an aggregate set of all twelve
pitch-classes; however, this gesture does not appear to be derived from the twelve-tone
row upon which most of act 1 is based, or in fact on any serial procedures at all.
33

Rather, it appears to reflect a deliberate effort on the part of the composer to enrich his
music with what Tupper has termed “panchromaticism”.
34
The succession of trichordal
harmonies that make up this progression move from a minor triad, to a slightly more
dissonant structure featuring a tritone and a major second, to an even more dissonant
chord containing a tritone and a minor second, and back to a relatively consonant minor
triad. In this manner, the degree of dissonance articulates an arc that parallels both the
tonic and dynamic shape of the gesture.
Fig. 17
&
œ #
œ n
œ
œ
-
œ
œ #
n
-
˙
œ
œ #
#
œ
œ n
[1]

In conclusion, Martin generates harmonic sonorities in Le Vin Herbé largely
through the juxtaposition of multiple layers or “strata” of musical material, the two
principal of which are a primary chord sequence and an independent bass line. The chord
sequences themselves consist of harmonic structures that vary in complexity and are
carefully controlled as to their level of dissonance. Triadic structures, particularly perfect

33
The use of tone rows in Le Vin Herbé will be addressed in more detail later in
this study.

34
Tupper, "Stylistic Analysis," 79.
131
triads, are common, but are generally deployed in non-functional progressions through
the use of parallel chord streams, root movements by second or third, or progressions
containing cross-relations, thereby undermining their tonal implications. The bass line
assumes a quasi-melodic independence, and is often constructed so as to maintain a
consistently high level of dissonance with the other harmonic voices. This is equally true
when, instead of moving in synch with the chord sequence, the bass momentarily
emphasizes a particular tonal center by articulating a static pedal point.

12-Tone Rows in Le Vin Herbé
Le Vin Herbé eliminates all the unnecessary elements in Martin's use of the
twelve-tone system. Le Vin Herbé (as well as all his subsequent works) retains
only the melodic series, and is constructed mainly on the harmonic aggregations
and rhythmic possibilities deriving from the tone-row and its intervals—whereas
most twelve-tone composers rely principally on the polyphonic and contrapuntal
combinations of the tone-row. It is in his particular use of the twelve-tone system
that the link between Martin and Debussy becomes apparent. One might say that
Martin is to Schönberg as Debussy is to Wagner. A further point of difference
between Martin and most of the twelve-tone composers lies in the expressive
quality of his music, for his use of the tone-row possesses a markedly lyrical
character, such as is seldom found in works by dodecaphonic composers.
35

With Le Vin Herbé, Martin continued to explore ways to incorporate the melodic
richness of serialism into an ostensibly tonal musical language, a process he had begun
five years earlier with such works as the Quatre pièces brèves and the First Piano
Concerto. Le Vin Herbé uses three principal rows, each serving a distinct function within
the work. The first of these serves as a unifying element throughout virtually the entire

35
Skulsky, "Frank Martin," 18.

132
first act, featuring prominently in every one of its scenes except the second.
36
This row is
laid bare in the cello solo that begins the third scene (Fig. 18).
Fig. 18
?
4
3
.
˙ #
p poco S
˙
œ #
.
œ
.
œ n
.
œ
. œ n
˙ # œ
œ #
.
˙
J
œ œ n
œ j
œ n
.
˙ #
.
˙ #
!
Adagio q = 60

This yields the prime form
37
(P
0
) of this row, which we will henceforth call “Row A”:
ROW A: P
0
(A) = C# D# E G B C F# A# A D F G#
Row A contains within itself the outlines of two minor triads (E-G-B and A-D-F), each of
which is also part of a four-note cell containing a major triad (E-G-B-C and A#-A-D-F),
and the row begins and ends by outlining a diminished triad (C#-D#-E-G and D-F-G#).

36
Although Billeter claims that this row appears in nearly all movements of the
work (Die Harmonik bei Frank Martin, 65), this is in fact true only of the original, one-
act version. After act 1, the row is absent until the last two scenes of act 3. Billeter also
mentions an appearance of this row over a pedal point in act 1, scene 2 at [8] (ibid., 66),
but he is almost certainly referring instead to its appearance in act 1, scene 1 at [8].

37
This is not actually the “original” presentation of this row, which first appears
in retrograde form in the bass line of the opening of act 1, scene 1; however, the decision
to treat this as the prime form of the row for purposes of this study is justified on the
following grounds: 1) Billeter and subsequent authors have consistently identified the
form of the row shown here as a non-retrograde form of the row; 2) in the autograph
piano-vocal score, Martin himself enumerates several occurrences of the row with the
numerals 1 through 12, and always in a manner that supports the interpretation of this
form as a prime (rather than retrograde) form; and 3) of all the appearances of the row
throughout the work, the vast majority are in this form and its transpositions; retrograde
forms are rare, and inversions rarer still. N.B.: Since the principles governing 12-tone
rows render enharmonic distinctions somewhat arbitrary, throughout our discussion of
Martin’s application of serial procedures, pitches will be identified by their “natural”
spelling whenever possible (e.g. F rather than E# or G-double-flat), and otherwise by
their “sharp” spelling (e.g. A# rather than B-flat).
133
This results in a marked structural similarity between the prime and retrograde-inverse
forms of the row, as a comparison between P
0
and RI
7
readily reveals:
6
P
0
(A) = C# D# E G B C (F#) A# A D F G#
| | | x x | | |
RI
7
(A) = C# E G C B (D#) A A# D F F# G#
The return from the last pitch to the first pitch (which Martin exploits here) is
suggestive of a dominant to tonic relationship, as are several other cells within the row
(e.g. C#-D#-E, G-B-C, or A-D).
A second 12-tone row is introduced in I.3 at [10], just after Tristan and Iseut have
ingested the philtre. Here, a solo violin plays a long-breathed theme representing the
magically induced feelings that draw them together and bind them to each other:
& 4
2
!
Œ ‰
j
œ b
p
˙
Fig. 2: Le Vin Herbé, I.3, 4 before [11] until 1 before [15], solo violin
˙
j
œ œ b
-
j
œ
-
˙ n
j
œ
. œ œ
œ
˙ n
&
(!)
œ œ
œ b
œ b
œ b œ n
œ b
œ b
œ b
œ n
j
œ
.
œ
œ
œ b
˙ b
J
œ
œ n
j
œ n
&
(!)
˙ n
J
œ
.
œ
"
˙ # . œ
j
œ n
j
œ
œ #
j
œ ˙
j
œ .
œ #
‰
j
œ #
œ #
œ #
-
&
(!)
œ
-
œ
- œ
- œ
-
˙ n
J
œ
œ
j
œ
cresc.
œ
œ b
3
œ
œ b
œ b
3
œ œ n
œ b
3
œ b
œ
œ n
˙ n
[11]
Più animato q = 66
[12]
[13] [14]
Agitato

This melody, which reappears several times throughout the work as a kind of “love
theme”, is generated from the following row (“Row B”):
P
0
(B) = E A C F G# F# C# D D# B A# G
The process by which the complete theme is constructed from Row B is easily
discernible. The first note (E-flat) is not part of the row, but rather acts as a chromatic

Furthermore, the return from the last pitch to the first pitch (which Martin exploits in the
cello solo shown in Fig. 18) is suggestive of a dominant to tonic relationship. In an
interview with Jean-Claude Piguet, Martin describes the tonal implications inherent in
this row, as well as some of the various ways it is used throughout the work:
It is a modulating melody, which starts from C minor*, enters E-flat minor, and
returns to C enharmonically. This row is used in Le Vin Herbé in a hundred
different ways: sometimes purely melodically, sometimes in two ways
simultaneously. There is, for example, a chorus where the piano traces the
melodic row very quickly, and the chorus sings the same row at the same time,
but more slowly. In Tristan’s solo, the row is used freely: the notes always come
exactly in the place assigned to them, but they can occur either in an intermediate
voice, or the tenor melody, or the bass. The row is thus “distributed” among all
the harmonic voices.
38

38
"C’est une mélodie modulante, qui part de do mineur, passe en mi bémol
mineur et revient à do par enharmonie. Cette série est employée dans le Vin Herbé de
cent façons différentes: par moment purement mélodiquement, parfois deux façons sont
simultanées. Il y a, par exemple, un choeur où le piano dessine très rapidement la série
mélodique, et le choeur chante cette même série en même temps, mais plus lentement.
Dans le solo de Tristan, la série est employée librement: les notes viennent chaque fois
exactement à la place qui leur est assignée, mais elles peuvent venir aussi bien dans une
voix intermédiaire que dans la mélodie du ténor, ou dans la basse. La série est ainsi
comme 'répartie' entre toutes les voix de l’harmonie." Martin & Piguet, Entretiens, 55-6
(author's translation). *N.B.: Martin is actually describing a “normalized” version of the
series, transposed so as to begin on C. The prime form taken from act 1, scene 3
(transposed a semi-tone higher) can therefore be said to modulate from C# minor to E
minor and back again.
134
Some of the various techniques and treatments Martin applies to these row forms, to
which he alludes here, will be explored in greater depth later in this study.
A second 12-tone row is introduced in act 1, scene 3 at [10], just after Tristan and
Iseut have ingested the philtre. Here, a solo violin plays a long-breathed theme
representing the magically induced feelings that draw them together and bind them to
each other (Fig. 19, below). This melody, which reappears several times throughout the
work as a kind of “love theme”, is generated from the following row (“Row B”):
ROW B: P
0
(B) = E A C F G# F# C# D D# B A# G
The process by which the complete theme is constructed from Row B is easily discerned.
The first note (E-flat) is not part of the row, but rather acts as a chromatic lower neighbor.
Beginning at the second note (E), the theme traces the prime form of the row, articulating
an arch-shaped melody consisting of two recognizable and contrasting motivic elements:
a slowly ascending “headmotive” of four notes that includes two perfect fourths,
Fig. 19
& 4
2
!
Œ ‰
j
œ b
p
˙ ˙
j
œ œ b
-
j
œ
-
˙ n
j
œ
. œ œ
œ
˙ n
&
(!)
œ œ
œ b
œ b
œ b œ n
œ b
œ b
œ b
œ n
j
œ
.
œ
œ
œ b
˙ b
J
œ
œ n
j
œ n
&
(!)
˙ n
J
œ
.
œ
"
˙ # . œ
j
œ n
j
œ
œ #
j
œ ˙
j
œ .
œ #
‰
j
œ #
œ #
œ #
-
&
(!)
œ
-
œ
- œ
- œ
-
˙ n
J
œ
œ
j
œ
cresc.
œ
œ b
3
œ
œ b
œ b
3
œ œ n
œ b
3
œ b
œ
œ n
˙ n
[11]
Più animato q = 66
[12]
[13] [14]
Agitato

135
followed by a meandering, rhythmically activated descent. The final note of P
0
(G)
becomes the first note of P
3
, articulating a similar ascending headmotive leading to a
different, more static conclusion. Here again, the final note of the row (A#) becomes the
first note of a new row form (P
6
), but now it breaks off after only four notes to begin yet
another row statement (P
7
). The resulting double headmotive is subjected to rhythmic
diminution, resulting in a rapid ascent to a climactic high C. Two quick octave descents
abate some of the accumulated energy before leading once again to a more rhythmic
conclusion. The entire theme, then, comprises three complete statements of the row, plus
an additional fragmentary statement of the four-note headmotive. This love theme occurs
a total of five times: when the lovers drink the potion (in act 1, scene 3); both before and
after Iseut confesses her love for Tristan (in act 1, scene 6); when Tristan, in sending
Kaherdin to find Iseut, makes reference to the potion (in act 3, scene 3); and finally, as
Iseut joins Tristan in death (in act 3, scene 6). Only the first statement is complete;
subsequent statements are curtailed to varying degrees. The final statement during
Iseut’s death scene is preceded and followed by a short polyphonic “fantasia” built on the
theme’s characteristic four-note headmotive, a shorter version of which follows Iseut’s
confession of love in act 1, scene 6. Unlike the other two rows, Row B serves only as a
generative source for this love theme and its accompanying fantasia. While the theme is
sometimes fragmented or transposed in its various occurrences throughout the work, the
row is never subjected to serial procedures such as retrogression, inversion, octave
displacement, rhythmic variation, or distribution among different harmonic voices, other
than in generating the theme itself.
136
The third tone row featured in Le Vin Herbé is reserved for the third act. Like the
other two rows, it is presented with stark clarity by a solo instrument, in this case by a
viola at the beginning of act 3, scene 5, the scene that deals with Tristan’s betrayal and
death (Fig. 20, below). The row outlined in this melody (“Row C”) is not technically a
12-tone row, as it includes only eleven pitches. Nevertheless, its treatment throughout
the final act, subject to transformative processes consistent with Martin’s application of
serial techniques elsewhere in this work and others, warrants its inclusion as a generative
“row” of the work:
ROW C: P
0
(C) = D# F G# B C C# E A# A F# D (G)
Like Row A, this row also contains within itself two diminished triads (F-G#-B and C#-
E-A#). Additionally, its last three notes outline a major triad (A-F#-D) that functions as a
hypothetical dominant in relation to the “missing” pitch (G). Thus, the inherent
incompleteness of this eleven-note row is further heightened by its tonal implications.
Here again, as with Row A, this melodic statement of Row C is not actually its earliest
appearance in the work. Martin first alludes to this row near the beginning of act 3 (scene
1 at [1]) where the upper vocal melody spells out its first six notes. Later, in act 3, scene
3 at [12], the complete row is presented as a bass line by the piano and low strings in
even quarter notes, albeit slightly out of order. Again, however, its raw, unadorned
exposition at the beginning of act 3, scene 5 would seem to justify adopting this form as
the prime form of the row for analytical purposes.
137
Fig. 20
&
c Œ
˙ # œ œ
dolce espress.
œ #
œ #
.
œ
J
œ #
˙ #
œ n
œ # œ œ n
- . œ #
-
j
œ n
˙ b
.
œ n
j
œ w
p
Lento q = 60

Analysis of these three principal rows reveals that of the 35 melodic interval
classes they contain (including the return of each row upon itself), 21 are either minor
thirds or minor seconds. This suggests, not surprisingly, that the same “marked
predisposition for the minor third and seconds” Tupper has identified as a feature of
Martin’s overall melodic style also informs his choice (or construction) of row forms as
generative material for Le Vin Herbé. By examining Martin’s treatment of these three
tone rows throughout the work, as well as the role they play in its construction, we may
begin to develop a clearer picture of precisely how he adapted the principles of serialism
and integrated them into his own mature compositional style.

The Row as Melody
All of the examples of row forms presented thus far illustrate what was, for
Martin, perhaps the single greatest benefit afforded by serialism: namely, that of melodic
enrichment. Collectively, they demonstrate how Martin often used tone rows as a basis
for self-contained melodic ideas. For example, Rows A and C are each introduced as
unadorned melodies, fashioned so as to articulate discernible arch-shapes (Fig. 18 and
Fig. 20, above). The love theme shown in Fig. 19 demonstrates how several such
melodies, derived from a single row, can be stitched together into a larger thematic idea.
A similarly straightforward melodic presentation of the row occurs in act 1, scene 1 at
138
[8], as Iseut’s mother warns Branghien of the potion’s effects. The texture here consists
of two consecutive statements of P
7
(A) played in unison by the instruments. Here,
however, the second note of the row (A#) is displaced to the beginning of the series, and
sustained as a pedal throughout the entire first row statement. The vocal line doubles the
first thirteen pitches, after which the instruments conclude the second row statement by
themselves. Martin simplifies the presentation of the row even further by affording equal
duration to each pitch, with the exception of one note whose duration is doubled in order
to articulate the phrase structure of the text. Rather than a closed, arch-shaped melodic
contour, however, Martin constructs this melody as a series of ascending lines that reflect
the escalating tension.
Another clear example of Martin’s use of a tone row as the basis of a melodic idea
is found at the beginning of act 1, scene 5, where the choir’s opening line is set to a
unison melody built on the pitches of P
0
(A). (This is the same passage cited by Martin,
above, in which the row occurs simultaneously in the piano and chorus at two different
speeds.) In this instance, Martin employs a freer approach to the rhythm of the series,
varying the durations of the constituent pitches; progress through the series accelerates
toward the end, reinforcing the melodic and dramatic climax of the phrase. As in the
previous case, Martin fashions the contour of the vocal melody as a series of rising lines
that serve to build tension, but here the melodic climax corresponds to the conclusion of
the row statement, at which point the choir suddenly bursts free of its serial “constraints”,
erupting into a dissonant four-part chord.
139
In some cases, Martin incorporates the row into the fabric of the music by using it
as the basis for a secondary melody or accompaniment figure. One example of this is
found in act 1, scene 1, beginning one measure before [14]. Here the primary melody is
sung by the choir who, after a rare moment of polyphony, suddenly join together in a
momentary unison before gradually expanding again into a harmonic texture.
Meanwhile, the strings carve out, in two (and eventually three) octaves, two consecutive
statements of P
2
(A) in constant eighth notes, providing a rhythmic and melodic
counterpoint to the longer notes of the choir’s melody. Here again (as at [8]), they omit
the second pitch-class of the row (F), which is already being sustained as a pedal point in
the lowest strings. A partial third statement dissolves into a four-note ostinato consisting
of the fifth, seventh, eighth, and ninth elements of the row (C#, G#, C, B).
A similar technique forms much of the basis of act 1, scene 5, in which the piano
accompanies the choir with a virtually unbroken stream of eighth notes (twelve per
measure) outlining various forms of Row A.
39
In this case, Martin clearly demonstrates
his predilection for tonal concerns over a strict adherence to serial principles. The first
six measures constitute six consecutive statements of P
0
(A), establishing an initial tonal
center of C#. This is followed by three and a half statements of P
7
(A), reflecting a tonal
shift to the dominant, G#. Immediately before this shift, however, Martin alters the last
three pitches of the final statement of P
0
(A), replacing the notes D-F-G# with the
neighboring pitches D#-F
x
-A#. This subtle change, which cannot be justified on the

39
As Billeter has noted, this technique of building an ostinato from a twelve-tone
row is one that Martin had explored earlier in his Piano Concerto of 1933. Billeter, Die
Harmonik bei Frank Martin, 67.
140
basis of any serial procedure, produces a triad that functions as a momentary secondary
dominant, reinforcing the “modulation” to the new tonal center of G#. Through a series
of modulations to different forms of the row (not all of them reinforced by such
unorthodox procedures), Martin manages to sculpt the formal design of the scene in a
manner analogous to the kind of tonal scheme that might shape a composition grounded
in a more functional harmonic idiom.

The Row as Bass Line
In Le Vin Herbé, as in many of his other mature works, Martin often writes
instrumental bass lines that are structurally independent of the other textural elements.
These bass lines are frequently rather static, consisting of a series of pedal tones that are
sometimes sustained, and at other times rhythmically activated, often through the use of
an ostinato figure. In many cases, these bass lines are built on the various forms of the
principal rows outlined above. For example, the first scene begins with an ostinato
consisting of a pedal point on A#, played pizzicato by the low strings articulating a four-
beat cyclical pattern. This pattern continues for eighteen cycles, unaffected by occasional
meter changes designed to accommodate the irregular speech rhythms of the vocal parts,
at which point the pedal moves to G and the ostinato pattern is slightly altered to a two-
beat cycle. This articulates a transition from the introductory choral narration to the
words of Iseut’s mother, and throughout the first portion of her solo, the pedal point
continues to shift at irregular intervals, moving from G to E, then to B, etc. until it has
traced the first ten pitch-classes of R
2
(A)—a retrograde statement of the row. At this
141
point the texture changes again, giving dramatic emphasis to the warning Iseut’s mother
conveys to Branghien, the first two notes of the new section being the final two notes
completing the row form (played by the second cello, now arco).
Only six measures later in the same scene, Martin once again introduces a
prolonged pedal on A#, spelled now as B-flat, which continues throughout the next
portion of the mother’s solo, including the first statement of P
7
(A) (discussed earlier).
Immediately after that, the two-beat cyclical ostinato pattern returns, once again
beginning on G and tracing the pitch-classes of R
2
(A) at irregular intervals. Although the
texture here is embellished by the addition of polyrhythms and an undulating ostinato in
the first cello, the parallelism with the earlier section is unmistakable. As the mother
concludes her warning and the chorus enters to repeat her final words, the texture
changes again, while the serialized bass line is once again left two notes short of a
complete statement. This time, however, Martin leaves the row unfinished, omitting the
last two pitches, F and D#.
40
While this omission could be an oversight, or may even
serve some deliberate musical or symbolic purpose, most likely it simply reflects the high
degree of latitude Martin accorded himself in incorporating certain features of 12-tone
technique into his music.
A somewhat different example of Martin’s use of serialized bass lines in Le Vin
Herbé occurs in act 3, scene 3 at [12]. Here, the bass line is constructed from the pitch-
classes of P
7
(C); however, rather than deploying the pitches of the row as a series of

40
Although a pedal point on F, introduced a short time later and emphasized by
both duration and articulation, could be considered a continuation of the row, the four
intervening bass notes, not derived from a row form, argue against such an interpretation.
142
pedal points of varying durations, Martin sets them to notes of equal duration (in this case
quarter notes), much as he did for the row-based melody found in act 1, scene 1 at [8].
This passage is noteworthy for two reasons. First, it includes the twelfth and final pitch
of the row (in this case, D) which is omitted in every other occurrence of the row,
rendering it the only “complete” statement of Row C in the entire work. Second, the
notes of the row are presented slightly out of sequence, with the eighth and ninth pitches
(i.e., F and E) being transposed, as well as the tenth and eleventh (i.e., C# and A). The
most likely explanation for this is that it yields a bass line consisting of two ascending
lines of six notes each; had he maintained the order of the row, it would have undermined
the unique effect created by the parallel contours of these two-bar segments. This affords
a clear example of an instance where Martin chose to exercise his own aesthetic
sensibilities, rather than a slavish adherence to a set of arbitrary technical rules.

The “Distributed” Row
Thus far we have examined some of the ways Martin integrates tone rows into the
musical fabric of Le Vin Herbé by using them as the basis for a single voice or musical
line. At other times, however, a row provides the foundation for a multi-voiced harmonic
tapestry, wherein the successive pitches of the row are “distributed” among the different
voices in such a way as to make each individual line as conjunct as possible.
41
As

41
In his description of the various ways in which he employs the row (quoted
above), Martin mentions Tristan’s aria in act 1, scene 4 as one example of this technique.

143
Billeter has noted,
42
a typical example of this procedure occurs in act 1, scene 1 (see Fig.
9, above). Here, the notes of the row form—specifically, P
11
(A)—are “distributed”
among the different voices in the harmonic texture in such a way as to make each
individual voice as conjunct as possible. As a result, motion within any given voice is
entirely stepwise, and almost exclusively by semitone, with the exception of a single
whole step in the viola part. The slight displacement of the fifth pitch in the series (B#/C)
again reflects the considerable liberty Martin frequently exercised in his use of
dodecaphonic techniques.
43

Whereas the foregoing example illustrates with tremendous clarity the application
of this procedure to a single, self-contained statement of the row, another will serve to
demonstrate how Martin uses this procedure to articulate a more extensive closed form.
The monophonic exposition of Row A that begins act 1, scene 3 (shown in Fig. 18,
above) is immediately followed by four more consecutive statements of the same row
form (P
0
), distributed between the vocal melody (doubled by second cello) and the first
viola part, while the first cello continues to sustain the initial C# as a bass pedal (Fig. 21).
The first row statement reflects a similar procedure to the one illustrated previously,

42
This excerpt serves as such a clear, concise example of this technique that
Billeter’s analysis (Die Harmonik bei Frank Martin, 66-7) is worth paraphrasing here.

43
What is interesting about this particular instance is that the apparent a priori
organizing principle—namely, the desire to produce only chromatic motion in each voice
part—does not in itself necessitate the reordering of the sequence. By having the first
cello move to B# two beats sooner, Martin could easily have maintained the integrity of
the row form without violating this fundamental design principle. Assuming the choice
to be deliberate rather than a mere oversight, this would point to an aesthetic rationale for
the “violation”, perhaps related to the level of dissonance in each of the resultant vertical
sonorities.
144
Fig. 21
?
?
?
4
3
4
3
4
3
Œ Œ
œ #
Un
Œ œ #
œ
Œ Œ
œ #
.
˙ #
!
p
˙ n œ
jour les
. ˙
.
˙ n
.
˙
œ œ
œ n
vents tom-bè -
˙ œ
˙
œ n
.
˙
˙
œ b
rent
.
˙ #
˙
œ b
.
˙
Œ ‰
œ b
j
œ
et les
.
˙
.
˙
.
˙
˙ œ œ
voi - les pen -
.
˙
. ˙
.
˙
?
?
?
œ
3
œ œ œ
daient dé - gon -
œ
œ #
œ #
.
˙
.
˙
œ # œ œ œ œ
flé - es le long du
. ˙
.
˙ #
.
˙
˙
Œ
mât.
œ œ n
‰
J
œ
. ˙
.
˙
poco cresc.
Œ Œ ‰
J
œ
-
Tris -
˙
œ n
. ˙
.
˙
œ #
-
œ œ œ œ
-
tan fit at - ter - rir
œ
œ b
œ
.
˙ #
.
˙
?
?
?
œ # œ
. œ #
-
J
œ
dans une î - le
. ˙
œ #
˙ #
.
˙
‰
œ n
J
œ
3
œ œ œ
et, las - sés de la
œ #
˙
j
œ . œ n
œ
.
˙
œ n
-
‰
J
œ
3
œ b œ œ
mer, les cent che-va -
œ œ
œ #
˙ n
œ b
.
˙
œ œ
œ œ
œ #
-
liers de Cor-nou - ail -
œ ˙ n
œ
œ
œ #
.
˙
?
?
?
œ œ #
œ # œ
œ œ
le_et tous les ma - ri -
œ
œ # œ n
œ
œ #
œ
.
˙
œ n
-
œ œ
œ
-
niers des - cen - di -
œ
œ n
œ #
œ n
œ
œ
.
˙
œ œ
œ b
œ
rent au ri -
œ #
J
œ n
œ
J
œ
œ
œ b
œ
.
˙
˙ #
-
œ
va - ge.
. ˙ #
.
˙ #
.
˙
!
[1]
Vc. 2
Vc. 1
Vla. 1
Basso 5.
Solo
[2] Poco animando
1
2 3
4 5 6
7
8
9
10
11
12
(1)
2 3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
(1)
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
2 3
(4)
(5) (6) rall.
(8) (9)
12
(12)
(1)
5
4
6
7
8
9
10 11

145
wherein each successive pitch-class is allocated to whichever voice can reach it via the
shorter distance. The only exception occurs at the tenth element of the row (D), which is
nearer the F# of the viola than the A of the vocal part. By instead allocating the D to the
vocal melody, however, Martin ensures that both voices maintain an ascending overall
trajectory. The same holds true in the second row statement, in which the two voices
essentially exchange functions (i.e., each is assigned the pitch-classes previously
allocated to the other voice). Martin continues in this manner until near the end of the
third row statement, where he deviates from the pattern in order to facilitate a rapid
descent back to the point of origin. In the fourth row statement, he virtually abandons
this “distributive” procedure in favor of a quasi-canonic treatment, allocating a nearly
complete row statement to each voice. The net result is that by carefully controlling the
contour of each line, Martin fashions a substantial passage of narration into a single
melodic arch structure spanning nineteen measures.

Motivic Development and Large-Scale Unity
By examining some of the ways in which Martin develops musical content in Le
Vin Herbé, the “economy of means” that characterizes his music will become further
apparent. Some of the techniques by which he generates more extensive musical forms
from concise melodic motives have already been examined, for example in Tristan’s
monologue in act 1, scene 4, or Iseut’s in act 2, scene 4. To these should be added the
contrapuntal, imitative development of melodic material, as found in the two polyphonic
passages mentioned earlier. Sometimes the wholesale repetition of musical material
146
within a particular scene serves to articulate a larger form; for example in act 1, scene 3,
the solo violin plays a brief, expressive melodic gesture (faintly reminiscent of the
opening bars of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde) underscored by successive pedal points on
F and B-flat, as discussed earlier. This entire passage occurs twice, once at the midpoint
of the movement and again at the end, establishing a bipartite division of the scene at the
exact pivotal moment where the lovers ingest the potion. Similarly, Iseut’s aria in act 2,
scene 4 has been shown to articulate a ternary (or da capo) structure by virtue of the
modified recurrence of its opening melodic material. At the same time, however, the
shimmering triplet figurations that underlie the narrative (choral) introduction are
reprised in the accompaniment of the B section of the aria. In this regard, Martin
establishes a two-part parallel structure spanning the entire scene, without sacrificing the
integrity of the closed ternary structure articulated by the aria proper. One further salient
example is found in act 3, scene 5 in which Tristan’s final words, comprising a threefold
repetition of Iseut’s name (poignantly set to a series of triadic harmonies, two minor and
one major) are reiterated as a disembodied echo by a solo viola at the end of the scene.
In some cases, this type of musical repetition serves not so much to articulate a
musical form, but rather to establish a dramatic resonance between events, often in
different scenes. For example, the same music given to Marc in act 2, scene 2 when he
discovers the lovers sleeping in the forest is briefly reprised by Tristan in act 2, scene 5
when he alerts Iseut to their discovery. A similar device is used to establish a link
between the last two scenes. Iseut’s prayer over the body of Tristan in act 3, scene 6 at
[11] is accompanied by a strikingly consonant and tonally suggestive chord progression
147
consisting of A-flat major, B-flat major, and C major chords, all underlying a sustained
pedal C in the upper register. In the following scene, this same progression recurs each
time the brier grows between the lovers’ tombs (at [5] and again at [6]). Furthermore,
between them these two restatements articulate a dominant-to-tonic relationship, the first
coming to rest on D# major, and the second on G# major. The unusually strong sense of
tonal repose generated by this succession offers a musical reflection of the peaceful
consummation the lovers can only attain in death.
In some cases, recurring musical material is also subjected to a process of organic
transformation, so that it takes on a completely different character. The most salient
example of this is also found in the last two scenes of act 3. As Tristan is prepared for
burial, a six-note melodic ostinato is articulated like a dirge in parallel octaves and fifths,
creating a sense of solemnity and archaism. At the beginning of the next scene, as Iseut
resumes her voyage toward Penmarch, this same ostinato returns in a rapidly flowing
pattern, highlighting at once both the urgency and the futility of her journey. The
resonance between these scenes is further underscored by the use once again of open
sonorities consisting of parallel perfect intervals, although here this voicing is applied to
the melody rather than to the accompanying ostinato. A second example of Martin’s
transformative re-characterization of musical material concerns a specific type of
accompaniment figure found in all three acts. This figure is comprised of two outer
voices that trace an oscillating pattern in contrary motion, combined with two essentially
static inner voices, resulting in an ostinato-like pattern that serves to prolong and
embellish an essentially static harmony. In its simplest form this gesture produces a
148
“floating” sensation, as in the two examples that frame the statement of the love theme in
act 3, scene 3 (see Fig. 22 and Fig. 23, below). Another example is found early in
Tristan’s soliloquy from act 2, scene 3, only here the vocal part provides one of the two
static inner voices (Fig. 24). Later in that same soliloquy, as Tristan becomes
increasingly agitated, a much more intense occurrence of this oscillating figure is used to
generate a final buildup of tension before his decisive climax (Fig. 25). In act 1, scene 2,
the same device appears twice in the choral accompaniment as a reflection of the hatred
Iseut initially bears for Tristan. Here, the dramatic intensity is heightened by the faster
tempo, more rhythmic articulation, and higher degree of dissonance in its constituent
harmonies (Fig. 26 and Fig. 27). As in act 2, scene 3, the pattern is used here not to
diminish the dramatic intensity but to advance it, in this case with the added support of
dynamic growth and sequential treatment of the material.
Fig. 22
?
c
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
# œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
n œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
n œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
# œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
n œ
œ
œ
œ
?
4
2
œ
œ
œ
œ n
# œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
# ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ n
n ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
#
#
˙
˙
˙
˙
n ˙
˙
˙
˙
# ˙
˙
˙
˙ n
n

Fig. 23
?
c
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
# œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
n œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
n œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
# œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
n œ
œ
œ
œ
?
4
2
œ
œ
œ
œ n
# œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
# ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ n
n ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
#
#
˙
˙
˙
˙
n ˙
˙
˙
˙
# ˙
˙
˙
˙ n
n

Fig. 24
V
&
c
c
‰
J
œ b œ œ œ œ
.
œ œ
mais par ten - dres-se_et par pi -
œ
œ
œ n
n œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ b
b œ
œ
œ
˙ b
‰
J
œ
.
œ œ
tié, tu as vou-
œ
œ
œ n
n œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ b
b œ
œ
œ
Tristan:

149
Fig. 25
& 8
6
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
f cresc. sempre
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
b
b
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ n
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
n
#
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
n
#
#
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
#
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
#

Fig. 26
?
c
œ
œ
œ
œ n
n
n
n
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
Il é - tait ve -
p ma ritmico
œ
œ
œ
œ
-
J
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
‰
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
nu, lui le
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
-
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
ra - vis - seur, lui le
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
-
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ b
-
meur-tri - er du Mor-holt!
?
œ
œ
œ
œ b
b
b
voi -
œ
œ
œ
œ n
b
b
n
-
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
b
ci qu'il l'em - por -
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ #
-
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
b
tait, com - me sa
?
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
#
n
-
J
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
#
‰
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
n
proi - e, sur les
cresc.
œ
œ
œ
œ #
-
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
flots, vers la
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
#
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
-
j
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
-
. œ n œ
œ
J
œ
‰
terre en - ne - mi - e!
f
T 1.
T 3.
B 5.
B 6.
T 1.2.
T 3.
B 4.
B 5.6.

Fig. 27
?
c
œ
œ
œ
œ n
n
n
n
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
Il é - tait ve -
p ma ritmico
œ
œ
œ
œ
-
J
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
‰
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
nu, lui le
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
-
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
ra - vis - seur, lui le
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
-
.
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ b
-
meur-tri - er du Mor-holt!
?
œ
œ
œ
œ b
b
b
voi -
œ
œ
œ
œ n
b
b
n
-
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
b
ci qu'il l'em - por -
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ #
-
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
b
tait, com - me sa
?
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
#
n
-
J
œ
œ
œ
œ
n
#
‰
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
n
proi - e, sur les
cresc.
œ
œ
œ
œ #
-
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
flots, vers la
.
.
.
œ
œ
œ
#
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
-
j
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
-
. œ n œ
œ
J
œ
‰
terre en - ne - mi - e!
f
T 1.
T 3.
B 5.
B 6.
T 1.2.
T 3.
B 4.
B 5.6.

Perhaps the most important unifying element in Le Vin Herbé, however, is the use
of recurring chord progressions as generative material. One particularly significant
example of this is the progression that concludes the prologue (Fig. 28). Although this
chord sequence is not truly “cadential” in the typical (i.e., functional) sense, it takes on
the structural role of a cadence by virtue of its position, its prolongation, and its
progression from a dissonant sonority to a more consonant major triad. This role is
further substantiated by its recurrence in similar contexts at other structurally significant
moments in the work, most notably its midpoint (at the end of act 2, scene 3, Fig. 29) and
conclusion (at the end of the epilogue, Fig. 30). One additional instance (Fig. 10, above)
precedes the choral narrative at the conclusion of act 2, giving an added sense of finality
150
to the lovers’ decision to leave the forest of Morois. In this way, Martin establishes this
progression as a kind of de facto authentic cadence.
Fig. 28
?
?
?
C
C
C
Ó
˙
˙ #
#
-
el -
!
!
w
w
w
w
w
w #
#
#
w
w
w #
#
#
p
œ
œ #
#
Œ
˙
˙
le par
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w #
#
lui.
Ó
˙
˙
˙ #
#
‹
Ó
˙
˙
˙ #
#
#
più p
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
!
w
w
w #
#
‹
U
w
w
w #
#
#
U
"
poco riten.
poco riten.

Fig. 29
?
?
?
c
c
c
.
.
˙
˙
œ
œ
dans la
Ó
˙
˙
˙
˙
Ó
˙
˙
w
w #
#
nuit.
Ó
˙
˙
˙
˙ #
#
#
#
Ó
˙
˙
#
#
˙
˙
j
œ
œ
‰ Œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
œ
‰
˙
˙
˙
˙ #
#
#
#
œ
œ
j
œ
œ
‰
˙
˙
#
#
!
U
˙
˙
˙
˙
U
J
œ
œ
œ
œ
‰ Œ
˙
˙
U
j
œ
œ
‰ Œ
perdendosi

Fig. 30
&
&
?
2
3
2
3
2
3
C
C
C
Ó
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
con-tre tous les
!
!
w
w
maux
!
!
w
w
,
w
w
w
b
w
w
p
w
w
d'a -
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
Œ
.
.
˙
˙
Œ
w
w #
#
mour.
Ó ˙
˙
˙
#
Ó
˙
˙
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
#
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
œ
œ
Œ Ó
U
w
w
w
#
U
w
w
#
U

151
The same progression is used in a different way at the conclusion of act 1, scene
5. Here, the music comes to rest on a sonority reminiscent of the penultimate chord of
the prologue (consisting of an A# half-diminished-seventh chord over a D# in the bass),
acting as a kind of half cadence. The anticipated “resolution” (by analogy) to C major is
accomplished only implicitly, as suggested by the C pedal that begins the following
scene. In a similar fashion, Martin further extends the application of this unique cadential
vocabulary in act 3, scene 3. Here, Tristan’s entreaty to Kaherdin concludes on the
penultimate chord of the prologue, consisting of a D# half-diminished-seventh chord over
a G# in the bass. Rather than the “expected” resolution to E# (or F) major, however, here
it moves instead to a D minor chord in the manner of a deceptive cadence, as the chorus
interrupts with a quiet reminder that Iseut aux Blanches Mains is eavesdropping behind
the wall. The chorus soon comes to rest on a C minor triad over a D pedal (the latter
having been sustained throughout this brief narrative passage), which the accompanying
instruments then “resolve” to B in a progression redolent of the previously anticipated
cadence. Thus, Martin’s aversion of the expected progression reflects the ominous
presence of the other Iseut, who conspires to thwart Tristan’s plans.

A "Seminal" Motive
Several more examples will serve to illustrate how Martin uses a single unifying
idea as a generative basis for a wealth of musical material in Le Vin Herbé. This very
simple motive consists of a two-voice contrapuntal gesture, wherein the interval of a
perfect fifth proceeds to a perfect fourth (or vice versa) by means of half-step motion in
152
each voice. The two-voice passages in the prologue and epilogue are rife with unadorned
instances of this gesture, as a short excerpt from the epilogue (Fig. 31, below) will suffice
to illustrate. From a harmonic standpoint, this gesture implies movement between perfect
triads whose roots lie a tritone apart; thus, it reflects Martin’s predilection for both
extremely conjunct motion and non-functional harmonic progressions.
Fig. 31
& 4
3
4
2
c
j
œ
œ
Bé -
œ
œ #
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
roul et Tho -
œ
œ n
‰
j
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
mas, et Mon-sei-gneur Eil -
œ
œ n
‰
j
œ
œ
3
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
hart, et maî-tre Got -
œ
œ b
fried,

The straightforward iterations of this idea that pervade the prologue and epilogue
represent only its simplest, most skeletal incarnation. A more fleshed-out example is
found in the final cadence of act 3, scene 6, which essentially moves from a G-flat major
chord (with an added F in the bass) to a C major chord. Here, the seminal gesture is
found in the two soprano parts, which proceed from a perfect fourth (D-flat/G-flat) to a
perfect fifth (C/G). In many cases, the gesture is embedded in a three-voice texture, in
which the additional voice also proceeds by half-step motion—a device Billeter has
described as a “triple leading tone” progression.
44
This in turn forms the basis of a longer
chord sequence that recurs in various structurally significant places throughout the work.
That progression is shown in Fig. 32 (below) as it is first presented in the opening of act
1, scene 1. The first two chords constitute the “triple leading tone” progression.

44
"The following chord group occurs very frequently: a chord with three leading
tones and, as its resolution, a minor triad." ("Folgende Akkordgruppe kommt sehr häufig
vor, ein Klang mit drei Leittönen und, als deren Auflösung, ein Molldreiklang.") Billeter,
Die Harmonik bei Frank Martin, 68 (author's translation).
153
Fig. 32
&
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
#
n
œ
œ
œ
n
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
#
œ
œ n
˙
œ
œ
œ
n
1. 2.
3. 4.
5a. 6a. 5b.
6b.

The manner in which Martin generates the musical material of this section from
the series of constituent harmonic sonorities shown above is akin to the way a composer
might use the pitches of a scale to generate a melody. Rather than simply presenting the
chords linearly, Martin moves variously backward and forward through the series, so that
new sonorities are introduced only gradually. From this perspective, Martin’s
progression is highly "conjunct", in the sense that consecutive sonorities are almost
always adjacent in the series. The following phrase-by-phrase analysis of the sonorities
used in this passage will serve to illustrate this principle:
A) 1-2-1-2-1-2-3 4-5a-4-5a-6a 1-2-1-2-3
B) (3-4-5b-3-4-5b) 3-4-5b-3-4-5b 6b-5b-4-3-2-1
Phrase group A consists of the first three phrases of choral narration, each of which
alternates between two sonorities before proceeding to a third, establishing a certain
degree of parallelism among its three phrases. The identical harmonic (i.e., pitch-class)
content shared by sonorities #1 and #6a allows for a smooth return to the first chord, so
that together these three phrases articulate something of an arch structure. In phrase
group B, sonorities #3, #4, and #5b (which really consists of two sonorities) combine to
form an ostinato that is repeated twice by the instruments and twice by the voices before
reaching the zenith (#6b), and then regressing rapidly backward through the series to the
beginning. This entire progression occurs over a continuous A# pedal in the bass, so that
154
the ostinato figure in phrase group B comprises a non-serial aggregate set, as mentioned
earlier.
At the beginning of act 1, scene 6, Martin repeats the material of this entire
opening passage (transposed up a whole step), thereby binding together all of the first
act—i.e. the entirety of the original version of the work—into a closed formal structure.
In this case, Martin adjusts the rhythm of the chord sequence to fit the new text, and
(perhaps because Tristan’s line ends with a question) reiterates the upward inflection of
the first phrase again at the end. Here the tempo is slightly slower, and the progression
through the series of chords is slightly more measured. Later in this same tableau, in the
moments leading up to the highly charged dramatic nadir of the scene in which Iseut
confesses her love for Tristan, Martin reprises the first part of this music a third time.
Here the tempo and harmonic rhythm are even slower, as if time were standing still—a
sensation underscored by the incompleteness of this partial musical reprise. Upon
expanding the work to its full, three-act version, Martin brings back this chord sequence a
fourth time to open the final scene (act 3, scene 7), thus giving this longer version a
satisfying sense of closure and formal cohesion, just as he had done for the original one-
act version.
At the beginning of the second act, Martin introduces another chord progression
that serves as a unifying idea throughout the first scene of the act, and to some extent the
entire act. This progression, introduced in the first eight measures of the vocal parts, is
summarized below (Fig. 33). It, too, is largely derived from the seminal motive
described earlier, which appears in three pairs of successive chords (indicated by
155
brackets). This same progression appears a short time later in the string accompaniment
at [2] (an octave lower), only here the ending is modified so as to effect a more open
structure, acting as a transition to new material. Martin concludes the scene with a full
restatement of the original chord progression, albeit in a much slower tempo and
transposed down by an augmented fifth. Here, however, he extends the progression by
one chord, so that the scene comes to rest on the very same sonority with which it began,
one octave lower.
Fig. 33

&
?
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
#
œ
œ
œ n
œ
œ
œ
#
#
#
œ
œ
œ n
#
n
œ
œ
œ
b
n
œ
œ
œ
n
n
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ N
œ #

Martin restates this progression once more at the conclusion of the second act
(scene 5 at [10]), establishing a palpable musical resonance between the lovers' arrival in
the Forest of Morois and their subsequent departure. At this point, the slow tempo and
low tessitura are reminiscent of the conclusion of act 2, scene 1, however the pitch
content reflects the original (untransposed) version of the progression. In this final
iteration, Martin adds a walking bass line (played pizzicato by the string bass), and
further extends the progression through the use of a rising sequence, followed by a
descending chord stream of parallel augmented triads embellished by an independent
bass line. The act concludes with a cadential progression virtually identical to the one
that concludes act 2, scene 1, consisting of a G# minor chord over a G in the bass,
"resolving" to a C major seventh chord in first inversion. This chord, with which act 2,
156
scene 1 also begins and ends, thus acts as a sonority of repose that serves to unify the
whole of the second act.
Two additional harmonic gestures derived from the same progression figure
prominently in act 2, scene 3. The first consists of a four-chord progression in three
voices (shown in Fig. 34, below—here the functionally independent bass voice is
omitted, apart from the first note which is shown in parentheses.) Martin introduces this
gesture in the string accompaniment at the beginning of the scene. As before, he does not
simply present the progression in order, but rather moves back and forth through the
chord sequence (initially by repeating the first two chords) as a means of developing and
varying the material throughout the scene. Like the progression in act 2, scene 1, this
chord sequence begins with a major seventh chord in first inversion, whose upper three
voices "resolve" by chromatic motion to a major triad whose root is a tritone away from
that of the initial chord.
45
This time, however, the (mostly chromatic) inward motion of
the upper voices proceeds two steps further, producing a minor triad followed by an open
perfect fourth. The resulting progression features two successive occurrences of the
seminal motive (again indicated with brackets). By subjecting this short progression to
developmental processes such as transposition, truncation, fragmentation, augmentation,
and rhythmic variation, Martin uses it as the basis for much of the musical material of
this scene.

45
This construction bears a notable similarity to Billeter's "triple leading tone"
progression from act 1, scene 1, except that instead of passing from a minor seventh
chord to a minor triad, it moves from a major seventh chord to a major triad.
157
Fig. 34

?
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
#
n
œ
œ
œ
n
b
œ
œ
b
b
( )

The second derivative gesture in this scene is produced by subjecting the initial
"chord of repose" to the process of "gliding counterpoint" described earlier, whereby
different voices in turn move by highly conjunct, often chromatic melodic steps. The
first example occurs at [4] (Fig. 35). Here again, the bass line provides a distinct
harmonic layer, moving independently and providing often dissonant coloration to the
primary harmonic element of the upper voices. This technique recurs throughout the
scene, often in alternation with the original progression, serving as a contrasting textural
element in more dramatically subdued or static passages.
Fig. 35
&
?
!
?
?
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
w
w
œ
œ
œ
n
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
‹ œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ
˙
˙ #
#
œ
œ
œ
‹
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙ n
n
j
œ
œ
‰
œ
œ
œ
‹
#
œ
œ
œ
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ
˙ n œ
[4]

Yet another progression derived from the same seminal motive forms the basis for
virtually all of the choral narration in act 3, scene 3. Here, the chorus intones in a manner
akin to Anglican chant, declaiming the text on a static chord, until the end of each phrase
where the harmonic rhythm accelerates. For the most part, Martin divides the narrative
into phrase groups consisting of three phrases each, the first two of which are set to the
same ascending progression, while the last is set to a descending progression, yielding an
158
overall AAB form. The initial statement at the opening of the scene, sung by three male
voices, is outlined in Fig. 36 (below). The opening tritone-related progression, derived
from the seminal motive, is indicated with brackets. The resulting harmonic material
undergoes further organic evolution in the following scene, as a storm assails the boat
carrying Iseut toward Penmarch. (Fig. 37, below, shows the progression found at [2] of
act 2, scene 4.) Here, the second phrase is an exact transposition of the principal
progression used in act 3, scene 3 (Fig. 36) while the two subsequent phrases develop and
amplify that progression, culminating in a chromatically descending chord stream of
parallel augmented triads.
46

Fig. 36

?
w
w
w
#
#
œ
œ
œ
#
n
œ
œ
œ
w
w
w
#
#
œ
œ
œ
#
n
œ
œ
œ
w
w
w
#
#
œ
œ
œ
‹
#
#
œ
œ
œ
#
#
n

Fig. 37
?
œ œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
b
b
b
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
#
n
œ
œ
œ
n
n
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
b
n
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
b
n
œ
œ
œ
b

The thematic idea that opens act 1, scene 2 is also derived from this seminal
motive, although here the relationship is somewhat occluded. The opening choral
narration of the scene, like much of the narration throughout the work, is set in simple,
chordal homophony, to a free rhythm following the natural declamation of the text. Here
again, Martin uses a three-voice chord progression as a harmonic basis for the passage,
allowing the somewhat irregular harmonic rhythm to be determined by the textual

46
Martin uses a similar technique for extending and developing material in act 2,
scene 5 beginning at [10], as discussed earlier.
159
scansion. As in the previous scene (act 1, scene 1), a pedal point underlying the entire
passage helps to establish the impression of a tonal center (in this case, on D). Martin
divides this narrative passage into four phrase groups, three of which he sets to the same
harmonic progression, articulating an overall AABA structure. (These two constituent
progressions, A and B, are shown below in Fig. 38 and Fig. 39, respectively. Chord
sequences based on the seminal motive are indicated with brackets.) Martin once again
imparts a closed form by reprising the opening material at the end of the scene, in this
case by restating the main part of this progression (Fig. 38) at [10], in the chorus's
accompaniment of Iseut's impassioned outcry. This time, however, the climactic C# in
the uppermost voice is replaced with a B-flat to create an E-flat minor triad, which
resolves by half-step motion back to the opening "tonic" D minor chord—although the
strength of this resolution is mitigated by the presence of an unsettling C# pedal point. A
comparison between this progression—particularly the latter variant found at [10]—and
the one employed in act 3, scene 3 (Fig. 36, above) reveals a very close structural affinity
between the two. In this case, however, the presence of the seminal motive as a
generative basis for the progression is obscured by the intervention of an A minor chord
between the D minor and A-flat major triads. This interpolation reflects Martin's careful
control over the level of dissonance (relative to the D pedal), which gradually increases
throughout the first half of the phrase group.
Fig. 38
&
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
&
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
b
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b œ
œ
œ
b
b
b œ
œ
œ n
œ
œ
œ
b
!
œ
œ
œ
n
b
b
&
"

160
Fig. 39
&
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b
&
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
b
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
b œ
œ
œ
b
b
b œ
œ
œ n
œ
œ
œ
b
!
œ
œ
œ
n
b
b
&
"

An analysis of the string figurations underlying the opening of act 1, scene 4
further illuminates Martin's "economy of means", as well as his organic approach to
motivic development. Here, Martin combines two distinct elements introduced
previously in the work to create a quasi-ostinato pattern that serves as a basis for the
accompaniment of the entire opening choral narration of the scene (Fig. 40, below). The
first of these elements is taken from the opening narration of act 1, scene 1, and consists
of what Billeter calls the "triple leading tone" progression, while the second is derived
from the choral narration that opened act 1, scene 2 (Fig. 38 and Fig. 39, above). The
latter plays upon the textual and contextual link between these two scenes, as reflected by
their reference to the motion of the boat—a connection further established by the
presence in both passages of a ubiquitous pedal point on D. In the case of act 1, scene 4,
however, the faster tempo and more active rhythmic treatment transform the gesture,
imbuing it with a sense of restless agitation. After a brief reminder about the boat's
continued progress, the narrative text soon goes on to describe the potion's effect on
Tristan as it courses through his veins—an image that also finds musical resonance in the
undulations of the string figurations. In this respect, Martin's music serves in part to
establish a link between Tristan's incipient love for Iseut (as a result of the potion) and
their imminent arrival at Tintagel, signifying the need for him to surrender her to Marc.
One effect of this quasi-leitmotivic connection is therefore to highlight the "bitter conflict
161
of love and law" that Bédier considered to be at the very heart of the legend, from the
very moment of its nascence.
Fig. 40
& 4
3
Œ
3
‰
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
b
n
3
œ
œ
œ n
j
œ
œ
œ
b
b
b
œ
œ œ
3
‰
œ
œ
œ
n
n
œ
œ
œ
b
b
œ
œ n œ
œ
b
-
œ
œ
#
#
-
&
3
‰
œ
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
œ
b
n
3
œ
œ
œ n
j
œ
œ
œ
b
b
b
3
‰
œ
œ
œ
b
n
3
J
œ
œ
œ
b
b
b
. œ
œ
œ
b
b
-
J
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
-
j
œ
œ
œ
n
-
.
.
.
˙
˙
˙
b
b
Allegro agitato q = 104

Martin later employs a similar gesture in act 1, scene 6 at [17], immediately after
the lovers' kiss. In this case, however, the harmonic language appears to be emancipated
from any connection to previous material, the chords being denser and more dissonant
than in the earlier passage. Nevertheless, the similar textural and rhythmic character of
this passage, along with its comparable melodic contour (albeit more constricted in
range), suffices to suggest an organic developmental link with the previous gesture,
reflecting the continuing progression of the potion's effect.
Occasionally, Martin introduces thematic or motivic material that is not directly
related to this seminal motive, only to establish such a connection later in the piece
through a process of musical synthesis, as one final example will serve to illustrate. At
the beginning of act 3, scene 1, Martin introduces a musical gesture consisting of a two-
voice duet in parallel thirds, moving in alternation between descending leaps and
ascending steps, to which he adds a contrapuntal, somewhat imitative, but essentially
independent bass line (see Fig. 41, below). As in so many other instances in the work,
this gesture recurs several times in the course of the same scene, subject to various
162
Fig. 41
&
?
4
7
4
7
c
c
!
!
&
?
c
c
Ó ‰
œ
œ b
J
œ
œ
Les a -
!
f
˙
˙
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
mants ne pou - vaient
Œ
œ
œ
-
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ b
b
&
?
˙
˙
n
j
œ
œ
#
#
‰
3
œ
œ
j
œ
œ
vi - vre ni mou -
.
.
˙
˙
œ
œ
dim.
dim.
˙
˙
j
œ
œ œ
œ
b
j
œ
œ
rir l'un sans
Œ
œ
œ #
#
-
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ n
n
˙
˙ b
œ
œ n
Œ
l'au - tre.
.
.
˙
˙ b
b
j
œ
œ b
b
‰
p
&
?
!
!
Largo lamentoso q = 60

degrees of development, including a final statement coinciding with the return of the
narrative voice at the scene's conclusion. In this particular instance, however, in the final
recurrence of the gesture at [8] (see Fig. 42, below), the upper duet is expanded to a
Fig. 42
&
?
4
7
4
7
c
c
!
!
&
?
c
c
Œ
˙
˙
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
Ah! Sei -
˙
˙ #
#
Ó
Œ ˙
˙
˙
#
#
#
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
f
f
ƒ
ƒ
˙
˙
#
n
>
Œ
œ
œ
gneurs, pour -
Ó
˙
˙ #
#
˙
˙
˙
#
n
n
>
Œ
œ
œ
œ
&
?
œ
œ
#
#
œ
œ
˙
˙ n
-
quoi dit - il
œ
œ
œ
#
#
#
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
n
n
-
3
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
#
#
-
cet - te pa - ro -
3
œ
œ
œ
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
#
#
-
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
Ó
U
le?
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
#
#
Ó
U
[8]

163
three-voice texture (reinforced by octave doublings) and modified so as to incorporate the
"triple leading tone" progression, which in turn is derived from the seminal motive.
The foregoing examples demonstrate several of the ways in which Martin uses a
few, relatively simple gestural, harmonic, and thematic ideas as a generative basis for
much of the musical material of Le Vin Herbé. Through the repetition, organic
development, and recombination of these building blocks, he establishes quasi-
leitmotivic resonances between passages, articulates large-scale closed forms on multiple
levels, and instills the work as a whole with a sense of internal unity and cohesion. This
feature is all the more remarkable in light of the work's protracted genesis, spanning a
period of three years. Le Vin Herbé represents nothing less than the crystallization of
Martin's mature style, synthesizing the fruits of his earlier struggles and experimentation
into a fully developed idiom that is both masterful and unique. The rhythmic
experiments of the 1920s, the exploration of an increasingly chromatic tonal language in
the 1930s, the ever-present desire to reconcile the melodic riches of serialism with the
undeniable gravitational attraction of functional tonality, and the innate gift of melodic
lyricism—all find their full expression in this work. At the same time, Le Vin Herbé also
lays the groundwork for many later masterworks, not least of them the Petite Symphonie
Concertante, perhaps his most celebrated work of all. Quite apart from its place in his
oeuvre, however, the work is, in its own right, a highly effective marriage of music and
drama, and one is hard-pressed to find a moment where Martin's setting does not enhance
Bédier's beautifully wrought prose.
164

CHAPTER 6: PERFORMANCE CONSIDERATIONS AND CONCLUSIONS

This chapter aims to assist conductors in planning and preparing a performance of
Frank Martin's Le Vin Herbé by exploring some of the questions and issues that must be
considered in the course of such an undertaking. Topics to be addressed include
obtaining performance materials, appropriate performing forces, a survey of past
performances of the work (both live and recorded) and of its reception history,
interpretive decisions, choice of language, and other issues of presentation (such as
staging and background information) that could influence the effectiveness of such a
performance.

Performance Materials and Recordings
Universal Edition in Vienna offers a study score (UE34130), piano-vocal score
(UE11311), and German-language libretto (UE11312; text only) for purchase, as well as
a full-size conducting score (UE18974), a set of instrumental parts (UE11315), and a
choral score (UE11313) for rent. All of the scores contain both the original French text
and the later German translation, indicating the rhythmic adaptations necessary to
165
accommodate the German underlay, and are suitable for performance in either language.
Although no performance-ready English-language publication of the work is currently
available, Universal Edition does possess a copy of the piano-vocal score with Clifton
Helliwell's English translation written in by hand, and has offered to furnish copies of
that adaptation upon request.
1
It should therefore be feasible to mount a performance of
the work in English without significant difficulty, if desired. Conductors preparing a
performance of this work should be aware that the published scores contain dozens of
typographical errors, and that there are also some significant discrepancies between the
conductor's full score and the piano-vocal score. Although most of these are relatively
minor, they are nevertheless worth noting.
2
An autograph copy of the full score of Le Vin
Herbé resides at the Wienbibliothek, while an additional autograph copy of the piano-
vocal score of the original (one-act) version is held in the archives of the Österreichische
Nationalbibliothek in Vienna.
To date, only three professional recordings of Le Vin Herbé have been produced.
The first was recorded in 1961 by the first-desk string players of the Winterthur
Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Victor Desarzens, with the composer himself at the
piano. Initially released as two LPs by Westminster in 1961, and subsequently reissued
by Jecklin in both LP and CD formats, this represents the work's only recorded
performance by an ensemble of twelve solo voices, as the composer intended.

1
Aygün Lausch (Universal Edition), e-mail message to the author, September 13,
2011.

2
A list of errata found in the conductor's score (UE11314, subsequently reprinted
as UE34130 with the same engraving) is provided in Appendix B.
166
Furthermore, the direct involvement of Martin himself affords this version an additional
stamp of legitimacy, and for nearly forty years it remained the only commercially
available recording of the work.
By the time Mark Shapiro undertook a new recording of Le Vin Herbé with
Newport Classic in 2000, he had already performed the work on at least two separate
occasions (eight years apart) with the amateur choir I Cantori di New York. In adapting a
work conceived for twelve soloists for performance by a choir roughly three times that
size, Shapiro's approach was to treat most of the narrative portions of the work as choral
tutti, allocating them to either the full ensemble or appropriate sections. This includes all
the narrative passages originally scored for more than one voice (anywhere from two or
twelve), as well as many others specifically marked solo. In some instances, however,
Shapiro faithfully observes Martin's solo designations, assigning certain narrative lines to
individual voices in the ensemble. Decisions about which solo indications to honor and
which to perform as tutti are discretionary (Shapiro states that solos were allotted to full
sections "where texture and mood suggest it"),
3
although those that are preserved as solos
tend to be shorter, more incidental passages. The three principal roles of Tristan, Iseut,
and King Marc are sung by independent professional soloists, while all other solo parts,
both character and narrative, are sung by members of the choir.
In 2007, Harmonia Mundi released a third recording of Le Vin Herbé featuring the
Berlin-based RIAS Kammerchor and Scharoun-Ensemble, conducted by Daniel Reuss.
Like Shapiro, Reuss applies a choral aesthetic to passages of ensemble narration, engages

3
Mark Shapiro, "Conductor's Note," in Frank Martin, Le Vin Herbé, I Cantori di
New York, Mark Shapiro (conductor), Newport Classic 85670, 2000.
167
outside professionals for the principal roles, and assigns smaller character roles and
incidental narrative solos to individual choir members. With respect to vocal textures,
this recording occupies something of a middle ground between the two previous ones.
Reuss adheres faithfully to Martin's instructions regarding the allocation of certain
narrative passages to solo voices,
4
while the singers strike a delicate balance between the
beautifully blended sound of a professionally trained choir and the supple, nuanced
expressiveness of vocal chamber music.

The Problem of Classification
Contemporary reviews of these three recordings, as well as of various live
performances produced throughout the composition's history, help bring to light some of
the particular challenges that must be overcome in producing a successful presentation of
Le Vin Herbé. Perhaps the greatest of these challenges stems from the difficulty in
categorizing the work, a fact that has often been blamed for the work's failure to gain a
stronger foothold in the repertory. It has been variously termed a secular cantata, a
dramatic oratorio, and a chamber opera, and has even been likened to more archaic forms
such as the ballad and mystery play. Martin himself tended to favor the term "oratorio"
when referencing the work, and that has become the most common genre designation
applied to it. Ultimately, however, it does not fully belong to any one of these categories,

4
The only exception is found in act 3, scene 4, at [26]. Here, Martin assigns the
narration to all singers in unison until [29], when a single alto voice takes over. In the
Jecklin recording, this entire passage is sung by the alto soloist—presumably with the
composer's blessing—a fact that Reuss apparently interpreted as permission (if not an
injunction) to do the same. Shapiro alone observes the printed instructions in employing
the full ensemble.
168
but rather stands astride them all. The issue of categorization is more than a semantic
one, for what ultimately distinguishes Le Vin Herbé from most other dramatic works is its
rather unique sense of narrative distance—an unusual and potentially unsettling effect
arising largely from Bédier's conteur-like narrative stance, and augmented to an extent by
Martin's austere musical setting. In the words of one reviewer, "It is less a drama
unfolding directly than a tale told through the veils of third persons, story tellers,
minstrels—a story more told about than told."
5

Another inherent challenge arising from the difficulty in classifying Le Vin Herbé
concerns programming. After all, the work was custom-tailored specifically for Robert
Blum's Zürcher Madrigalchor (as of 1938)—a tightly knit, well-trained cadre of twelve
excellent singers, equally capable of forming a homogenous, blended ensemble, or of
stepping out individually as soloists to project strong character roles. Martin designed the
work, and the solo roles in particular, with those twelve singers in mind (based on Blum's
descriptions), and an unfortunate and ironic consequence of his diligence is that few other
ensembles, if any, can hope to achieve the same precise "fit". Thus, the work's very
survival has come to depend upon a degree of adaptation and flexibility. For the most
part, the musical organizations that have found a place for Le Vin Herbé in their repertory
have tended to fall into one of two categories: chamber choirs, often numbering
somewhat more than twelve singers, and opera companies. Each of these two cases

5
Peter Jacobi, "Review of Recorded Music: Non Wagnerian Tristan, non...,"
review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Westminster XWN 2232, Music
Magazine 164 (July 1962), 48, quoted in King, Frank Martin, 216.
169
presents its own set of pitfalls, requiring a distinct set of adjustments and
accommodations if the production is to be successful.

Choral Music or Chamber Music?
In the notes accompanying his 2000 recording of the work, Mark Shapiro outlines
the nature of this challenge:
When not singing solos, the six women and six men constitute the chorus.
Several of the solos are vocally taxing, and seem to demand operatically trained
voices. At the same time, the twelve individuals, singing together, must strive for
a balanced and unified choral sound. In practice, this requirement may prove
unwieldy, if not self-contradictory. Difficulties arise having to do with the kind
of voice best suited to each task; the solos want weight, while the chorus must
seek to project as transparently as possible Martin's delicately wrought harmonies
and Bédier's subtle language. One lamentable result may be that the work isn't as
well known as its purely musical merits warrant. It seldom figures on the
programming horizon of volunteer choruses, who might otherwise find Le Vin
Herbé incomparably rewarding.
6

Shapiro's response was to adapt the work for "choral" performance (in the manner
described earlier). He first presented this version with I Cantori di New York during his
inaugural season as music director, eight years before they recorded it. This approach
may have been inspired by precedent, or it may have been an act of pure innovation.
7
In
either case, what is virtually certain is that this adaptation, and particularly the pioneering
recording subsequently born of it, has had a revitalizing effect on the work's recent

6
Shapiro, "Conductor's Note".

7
A similar adaptive convention frequently applied to Vaughan Williams'
Serenade to Music has been suggested as a possible precursor. See William Adams,
review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Newport NPD 85670, Choral
Journal 43, no. 7 (Feb. 2003), 72.
170
performance history. For one thing, the mere existence of such a recording lends a
degree of validity to this style of performance practice, and has likely helped pave the
way for many subsequent "choral" performances, including Harmonia Mundi's recording
with the RIAS Kammerchor in 2007.
Purists will rightly protest
8
that the multiplication of voices significantly reduces
the emotional characterization and impact of the ensemble narration. This is the
inevitable cost of such an adaptation. One of its chief benefits on the other hand, as
Shapiro points out in his note, is expanded access to the work for both performers and
audiences. Setting aside questions of accessibility for the moment, however, it must be
acknowledged that "choral" and "chamber" performance practices occupy two distinct
aesthetic realms, in which the fundamental means of dramatic expression are inherently
and qualitatively different.
9
As soon as a single vocal line is assigned to multiple
voices—even just two—a different set of techniques for achieving intelligibility, tools for
conveying emotion, and expectations regarding beauty of sound immediately comes into
play. While this may constrict the line's expressive potential from the standpoint of vocal
color and dramatic characterization, it simultaneously intensifies it in other respects, for
example with regard to harmony—an element that can afford considerable expressive
riches, particularly in the music of Martin. To evaluate either expressive medium
according to the criteria governing the other would be misguided, and while some may

8
See, for example, Nicholas Deutsch's reviews of both the Newport Classic and
Harmonia Mundi recordings.

9
Here, the term "chamber" is used to denote any ensemble texture whose
constituent members are essentially regarded as independent soloists.
171
consider one particular medium less suited (or even wholly inappropriate) for a given
work, this is essentially a matter of taste, and others will likely disagree. Such, after all,
is the nature of art, and in most cases, factors such as the quality of execution and the
expectations of the listener are likely to have a greater impact on the perceived success or
effectiveness of a given performance. The challenge stems from the fact that Le Vin
Herbé occupies a space somewhere between these two realms. Not only does it contain
passages that clearly lend themselves to each of these two distinct idioms, but it also
contains many that would seem to blur the distinction entirely.
10
While one's aesthetic
approach will in part be determined a priori by the nature of the performing ensemble, a
conductor must have a firm grasp of both styles in order to mount a successful
production.

Oratorio or Opera?
In some respects, Le Vin Herbé is an inherently non-theatrical work. For one
thing, Bédier's narrative interpolations create an additional layer of separation between
the story and the listener that is difficult to incorporate effectively into any kind of
mimetic framework. For his part, however, Martin has also been credited with
deliberately striving to avoid any trappings of theatrical convention. A program note
from a 1962 performance asserts, "...Frank Martin was wise enough not to put his foot
over that border which divides the strict style of the oratorio from the romantic spirit of

10
The opening of act 1, scene 1, for example, calls for a three-voice texture in
which the top line is allocated to five voices in unison, while the other two are each sung
by a solo voice.

172
the musical theater."
11
It has even been suggested that this reflects a deliberate effort on
the part of the composer to distance the work from Wagner's opera on the same subject.
12

Nevertheless, in 1948 Le Vin Herbé (in a new German translation titled Der Zaubertrank)
was given its first fully staged presentation at the Salzburg Festival, and since then,
numerous attempts to recast the work as a chamber opera have met with varying degrees
of success. A survey of performance reviews of the work included in Charles King's
monograph on Martin
13
suggests that more often than not, the incorporation of staging
has done little to enhance those productions, and in many cases has even detracted from
them.
Some critics have blamed the failure of these staged productions on Martin's
score, describing it as ill-suited for the theater. In 1982, for example, the first staged
performance of the work in Britain prompted one reviewer to write, "Martin's distant
stylized music can only make sense in an unoperatic presentation."
14
Another,
responding to a 1962 production in Munich, makes a point of praising the music on its
own merits, even while criticizing its stage-worthiness: "The venerable Swiss composer

11
"...Frank Martin war weise genug, den Fuss nicht über jene Grenze zu setzen,
die den Strengen Stil des Oratoriums von dem romantischen Geiste des Musikalischen
Theaters trennt." Otto Oster, "Der Tristan-Mythos bei Joseph Bédier und Frank Martin,"
Almanach der Gesellschaft ur Förderung der Müncher Festspiele (Munich, 1962),
quoted and translated in King, Frank Martin, 119.

12
Constantin Regamey, "Frank Martin 'Le Vin Herbé'," Orchestre de Chambre de
Lausanne [program notes] (March 11, 1968), quoted in King, Frank Martin, 219.

13
King, Frank Martin, 213-221.

14
Jeremy Sams, "College and other performances- Le Vin Herbé," Opera 33 (July
1982), p. 767, quoted in King, Frank Martin, 220.
173
discloses the best of taste and the most expert craftsmanship throughout this work, as he
does in most of his others. But, unfortunately, his writing betrays definite limitations in
dramatic variety, and therefore fails to hold the stage consistently."
15
This same reviewer
goes on to further explicate the nature of this perceived impediment: "Lacking true
dramatic impulses and motives within themselves, the protagonists can do no more than
strike poses and utter occasional phrases of dialogue."
16
In other cases, however, the
failure of Le Vin Herbé to translate effectively to the stage has been blamed on the
productions themselves. For example, one review of a 1982 Geneva performance refers
to the staging, costumes, and lighting as "senseless and ugly", and faults the stage
director for "not allowing the tender, elegiac quality of the text and music to transpire on
stage."
17
Some productions have attempted to address this challenge by adopting a
hybrid or "semi-staged" approach to performance. This strategy has often been perceived
as half-hearted and ineffectual, as exemplified by this assessment of a 2010 performance
in London:
Ardente Opera did well to programme such an intriguing oddity, and the beautiful
sounds produced by its chorus and eight-piece ensemble made the otherwise
lacklustre production worth sitting through. Even if Martin's sparse scoring bears
traces of Modernist astringency, there's no excuse for astringent drama. Rosie
Parker was listed as director, but her creative input must have been severely
watered down: furrowed brows and a couple of chairs don't count as 'semi-
staging'. A bit more care with lighting and choreography could have made for

15
Martin Bernheimer, "Current Chronicle: Munich," review of performance of Le
Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin, The Musical Quarterly 48, no. 4 (October 1962), 527.

16
Ibid.

17
Lanfranco Rasponi, "Geneva," review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by
Frank Martin, Opera News 47 (August 1982), quoted in King, Frank Martin, 219. See
also King's summaries of reviews by Kessler, Lewinski, and Rothon.
174
some striking tableaux—the narrative begs for it—but as it was, the poor dramatic
effort did more to detract from the company's high musical standards than to add
to any particular impact.
18

On the other hand, a small number of theatrical productions of the work have
managed to garner critical praise.
19
One particular 2000 production by the Neuköllner
Oper adopted a particularly creative solution to the problem posed by Bédier's unusual
narrative stance by framing the action in the context of that ubiquitous mainstay of 21
st
-
century pop culture, the reality TV show. As one reviewer explains,
It concerns a group of crushingly ordinary people shoved together in a prefab. No
matter where they are or what they do, they are filmed by fixed cameras. This
drab business has turned into a cult. Bernd Mottl placed his cast of eight in a
single room. Each member has a simple bed. They amuse themselves in the most
mundane fashion (reading magazines, putting on make-up, listening to a
walkman) and we are dragged through a long silent beginning, watching this
prosaic dumbshow. The tension is considerable and the pay-off appropriate. The
score of Martin's work drops from the heavens/ceiling. The crew distribute the
parts among themselves, and then these average types perform for us the
legendary and passionate drama of Tristan and Isolde.

[...]

Much praise is owed the production, which with mundane means tackles and
largely solves all the dramatic challenges. The eight beds turn into walls, waves
and forest in the most direct manner. The very ingenuousness of it all encourages
a suspension of disbelief while profiting greatly from a sense of immediacy. Our
initially 'ordinary' characters make of the legend and its moral and aesthetic
baggage an upfront theatrical experience.
20

18
Kate Molleson, "Le Vin Herbé," review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by
Frank Martin, Opera 61, no. 3 (March 2010), 341-2.

19
See reviews by Fierz, Trilling, and Hunziker, summarized in King, Frank
Martin, 213-21.

20
Barry Emslie, review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin, Opera
51, no. 8 (August 2000), 960-1.
175
This innovative technique, by which the characters present the story themselves rather
than embodying it directly, serves as a modern analogy to the medieval conteurs invoked
by Bédier's peculiarly archaic tone. By thus integrating this otherwise dramatically
superfluous layer of narration into the performance, the director presents the tale as (to
use Jacobi's phrase) "a story more told about than told." The reviewer's rather hopeful
conclusion is that "Le Vin Herbé proves highly susceptible to dramatic realization and the
Neuköllner production is, fundamentally, a complete vindication of both the little opera
company and the work itself."
21

As with Shapiro's choral "adaptation", any attempt to present Le Vin Herbé as a
theatrical or operatic production similarly necessitates a fundamental shift in artistic aims.
As with any essentially narrative art form, the effectiveness of a performance of the work,
whether staged or not, depends largely on its dramatic impact—that is, the extent to
which its presentation is sufficiently compelling to keep the audience engaged in the
drama. An audience will have very different expectations of a work framed as an "opera"
than of one presented as an "oratorio", and despite significant overlap, the two
performances will ultimately be shaped according to two fundamentally different sets of
aesthetic priorities. In this case, the essential distinction boils down to the degree to
which that dramatization is conveyed through visual and/or mimetic means. That this
distinction is not always a clear one (in light of various attempts at "semi-staged"
productions) only further underscores the importance of managing an audience's
expectations when presenting this work.

21
Ibid., 960.
176

Musical Language
Setting aside questions of staging and vocal textures, the musical language of Le
Vin Herbé also presents some significant challenges of its own for modern audiences.
Martin's straightforward, understated, and minimally inflected presentation of Bédier's
rather objective narrative voice can sometimes be perceived as aloof or indifferent—a
fact some critics have cited as a detriment to the work's dramatic impact. One 1948
reviewer characterizes the music as "matter-of-fact" as well as "bare and unsuggestive,"
complaining, "His music is little concerned with looking ahead or around or behind; often
it closes indifferently when the situation should go on echoing in the emotional senses."
22

Similarly, a reviewer of a 2010 London performance notes, "The text sticks to dry
narrative, delivered by a chorus whose emotional engagement ranges from blasé to
bemused...This is café-culture Tristan, Tristan with a Gallic shrug and a cigarette."
23
For
some, the very "economy of means" (to use Tupper's phrase) that gives the work a sense
of unity and cohesion can also render it monochromatic, or even monotonous. According
to one reviewer, "Variation of pace and colour is the problem," and Martin's "response to
the dramatic needs of the text is...not really that of a 'natural' like Strauss or Berg or even
Poulenc."
24
One blames the effect on "too much intellect and too little inspiration,"
25

22
"London Concerts," unsigned review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank
Martin, The Musical Times 89, no. 1261 (March 1948), 89.

23
Molleson, "Le Vin Herbé," 341.

24
Richard Law, review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Newport
NPD 85670, Opera 52, no. 2 (February 2001), 251.
177
while another suggests, "The piece's subdued, unspectacular nature is probably what has
kept it from catching the musical public's fancy."
26

These subjective assessments are by no means universally shared, however, and
in fact, many critics have applauded the work on some of the very same grounds for
which others have denounced it, praising (for example) its "impressive range of mood",
27

or describing the score as "astoundingly rich in variety and colour."
28
Some have
purported that the austere, minimalist directness of Martin's setting actually serves the
drama, rather than detracting from it. According to one review, "...the very
understatedness [of the instrumental textures] drives the fundamental message home far
more powerfully than a whole plethora of dramatic orchestral gestures."
29
Similarly,
while some regard the unrelentingly sad tone of the work as problematic,
30
others

25
Bernheimer, "Current Chronicle," 527.

26
Lindsay Koob, review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin:
Harmonia Mundi HMC 901935-6, American Record Guide 70, no. 4 (July/August 2007),
130.

27
Peter Reed, review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Harmonia
Mundi HMC 901935-6, Opera 58, no. 7 (July 2007), 871.

28
Emslie, review of Le Vin Herbé, 960.

29
Marc Rochester, review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin:
Harmonia Mundi HMC 901935-6, Gramophone 1020 (July 2007), 89.

30
For example, an anonymous review of the work's American premiére in 1961
cites its consistent and unrelenting sadness as a weakness in the score. "Martin's 'Le Vin
Herbé' has impressive U.S. Premiere," Musical Courier 163 (April 1961), 9, 12, quoted in
King, Frank Martin, 216.

178
consider it an asset.
31
And of course, comparisons to Tristan und Isolde (which are
practically de rigeur in any assessment of Le Vin Herbé) have had the cumulative effect
of underscoring those characteristics that distinguish the work from its quasi-archetypal
predecessor, regardless of whether or not Martin's music reflects any sort of deliberate
reactionary impulse in relation to Wagner's.
Collectively, these largely subjective reactions convey a rather mixed picture of
the work's reception history. Nevertheless, it is hoped that this summary may at least
serve to highlight some of the challenges and pitfalls that could potentially undermine the
effectiveness of a performance of the work.

Performance Challenges
Musically, Le Vin Herbé affords a considerable degree of challenge, particularly
for an amateur ensemble. In fact, according to Martin's brother Bernard, the Zürcher
Madrigalchor required no fewer than a hundred rehearsals to master the original, one-act
version of the work—a fact he attributes to the novelty of Martin's compositional style at
the time.
32
For the chorus, the transparency of Martin's predominately homophonic

31
In comparing the Jecklin and Newport recordings, for example, Martin
Anderson remarks, "Desarzens manages to tease out the tension of the work better than
Shapiro: It's a darker world in Switzerland than in New York." Fanfare 24, no. 1
(September/October 2000), 137.

32
"Let us add that the language of Le Vin Herbé was, in 1939, so new that it took
no less than a hundred rehearsals for the singers of the Madrigalchor to master this half-
hour of music." ("Ajoutons que le langage du 'Vin Herbé' etait, en 1939, si nouveau, qu'il
ne fallut pas moins de cent repetitions pour que les chanteurs du Madrigalchor
parviennent a maitriser cette demi-heure de musique.") Bernard Martin, La réalité du
rêve, 78 (author's translation).
179
textures affords no place to hide, demanding scrupulous attention to ensemble concerns
such as balance, blend, and unified, expressive declamation. Since harmonic concerns
play such a central role in the work's conception, serving as both a structural and an
expressive medium, precision of intonation assumes a particular degree of significance,
as Martin Anderson explains in his review of the Newport recording:
The importance of Martin's oeuvre as a whole is that it achieves something that, to
my mind, only he and Shostakovich achieved: a reconciliation of the
compositional techniques of tonality and dodecaphony...As a result, pitch is an
extremely important consideration in Martin's music, which can make it very
difficult to sing: You have to hit the notes bang on. And that, I'm afraid, is where
this new recording of Le Vin Herbé falls down...the intonation of most of the
soloists and the chorus simply can't be relied upon—and that throws off the
dramatic pulse of the entire work, which has to be felt as moving inexorably to its
tragic conclusion...
33

Another aspect of the work that requires special care in performance is the text.
Martin's setting does little to embellish or obscure the "perfect rhythm" of Bédier's prose,
and it is largely through the words that the power and meaning of the story are conveyed.
This demands of the singers clarity and unanimity of enunciation, careful attention to
balance (particularly in the few polyphonic passages), and expressive declamation—in
short, nothing less than an intimate mastery of the language. Of the three extant
recordings, only the original Westminster/Jecklin release features a choir of native French
speakers, and both subsequent recordings have been criticized for their occasionally
flawed pronunciation.
34
For non-native choirs, this suggests the possibility of presenting

33
Anderson, review of Le Vin Herbé, 235.

34
See, for example, reviews of the Newport recording by Deutsch and Law, as
well as Kasow's review of the Harmonia Mundi recording.
180
the work in translation. Of course, from a purely aesthetic standpoint, Le Vin Herbé
should be performed in the original French if at all possible. The elegant cadence and
prosaic nuance of Bédier's text, with its delicate balance between medieval archaism and
modern sensibility, loses much of its power and subtlety in translation. Furthermore,
Martin's extraordinary vocal writing was conceived in relation to the detailed inflection
and expression of the French text, and even with the necessary rhythmic adjustments to
accommodate performance in English, German, or any other language, that perfect
alignment is sacrificed. Most listeners capable of appreciating the conventional idioms of
contemporary classical music will not be discouraged by its presentation in a language
that is more or less unfamiliar, particularly if they are furnished with a good translation.
That being said, the availability of serviceable performing translations does afford the
possibility of presenting the work in the vernacular, in circumstances where this may be
advantageous. Due consideration must be given to the skill level of the performers and
the available rehearsal time, as well as the expectations and sophistication of the target
audience.

Soloists
In its original conception as a chamber work, Le Vin Herbé features solo roles for
two major characters, seven minor characters, and nine distinct narrative voices.
35
The

35
For these purposes, two or more narrative lines occurring in the same scene and
allocated to the same singer are counted as a single solo "role", even if they occur at
different points in the scene. Passages occurring in different scenes are counted
separately, even if Martin allocated them to the same voice, allowing for the practical
possibility of redistributing these to multiple singers.
181
principal roles of Tristan and Iseut are especially demanding, both musically and
dramatically, and casting the right voices for these two parts is of critical importance.
Tristan sings in seven of the twenty scenes or tableaux that make up the work, and is
extensively involved in four of those. Two are essentially interactive scenes: in the first
(act 2, scene 5) he persuades Iseut that they should leave the Forest of Morois, and in the
second (act 3, scene 3) he instructs Kaherdin to fetch Iseut so that he might see her once
more before he dies. The other two (act 1, scene 4 and act 2, scene 3) both contain
lengthy arias in which Tristan wrestles with some sort of inner conflict. These two
monologues constitute the most challenging and demanding scenes for the singer, each
traversing a broad emotional spectrum that encompasses anguish, guilt, tenderness,
frailty, and heroic resolve. Several passionate climaxes take the singer up to a high A,
and once even to a high B, although the latter can theoretically be avoided by observing
Martin's ossia indications. The role of Iseut, though perhaps marginally less complex, is
nonetheless comparably demanding, both vocally and dramatically. Her aria in act 2,
scene 4 mirrors Tristan's in the previous scene, and explores (albeit in a more cursory
fashion) her own inner conflict. Otherwise, apart from some brief moments of
tenderness, understated bitterness, and resignation, Iseut's most common emotional state
is one of distress. This frequently carries her above the treble staff, and her part features
a number of high B-flats (including the second note she sings—a considerable challenge
in itself, particularly in live performances). For this reason, the role calls for a voice with
some dramatic weight, despite the high tessitura. The most demanding scene for Iseut is
act 3, scene 4, in which a storm delays the ship carrying her toward the dying Tristan,
182
prompting a tour de force of musical anguish. Martin assigns the singers who portray
Tristan (T2) and Iseut (S2) to join the narrative ensemble in many scenes in which their
respective characters do not sing; however, in practice these principals are often spared
this responsibility—particularly in choral adaptations of the work. Even in "chamber"
performances involving only twelve singers, the narrative parts can still be re-voiced
fairly easily so as to exclude these two singers—an approach that merits consideration in
light of the considerable demands placed on these principals.
The other solo parts, consisting of seven named character roles and nine narrative
passages, are all significantly less demanding. Rather than attempting to distribute these
roles equitably among the remaining singers, however, Martin calls upon certain singers
to perform in multiple capacities, and in one case even assigns two named character roles
to the same singer.
36
Meanwhile, three of Blum's twelve singers (S1, A6, and B6) are
afforded no solo opportunities whatsoever. This suggests either that Blum considered
some of his singers more suitable for solo roles than others, or alternately, that Martin
considered timbre (and perhaps also physical attributes such as age) to be more important
than equity in allocating solos. As at least one critic has noted,
37
however, this can
potentially confuse the listener and thus detract from the work's dramatic impact. Some
degree of liberty in reallocating these parts would therefore seem justifiable, even in the
context of a "chamber" performance.

36
The roles of King Marc in act 2, scene 2 and le vieillard in act 3, scene 6 are
both assigned to the same singer (B4).

37
"This practice is at times distracting. When the Old Man sings in Act III, Sc. 6,
the ear remembers the voice as King Mark." Adams, review of Le Vin Herbé, 73.
183
Of the seven additional named roles, only Branghien sings in more than one
scene, expressing her dismay first after the lovers drink the potion in act 1, scene 3, then
again more extensively after they kiss in act 1, scene 6. The peak of her distress takes her
up to a high C (although this too can be mitigated by observing Martin's ossia
indications). Branghien's youth and station, as well as the tessitura, call for a somewhat
lighter voice, despite the dramatic nature of her part. Apart from Branghien (S3) and
Iseut (S2), Martin allocates only one solo narrative passage (in act 3, scene 6) to a
soprano voice. Although he assigns this to the same singer who portrays Branghien in
the first act (S3), it could just as easily be given to the remaining soprano (S1—or in a
choral performance, to any other soprano).
Martin allocates three named roles to basses: King Marc (in act 2, scene 2), Duke
Hoël (in act 3, scene 1) and the Old Man (le vieillard in act 3, scene 6). Although he
assigns two of these to the same singer, the work is better served by employing different
singers for each of these roles when possible. Martin assigns additional narrative
passages to bass or baritone soloists in five different scenes, including those that feature
both King Marc and Duke Hoël.
38
In chamber performances, at least one singer must
therefore either portray two different characters, or do "double duty" as both character
and narrator.
39
In a choral performance, another alternative is to employ an additional
outside soloist for the single passage that constitutes the role of King Marc, as in the

38
In light of their high tessitura, two of these passages (in act 1, scene 2 at [4],
and the opening of act 3, scene 2) could also be sung by tenors.

39
Dramatically, the latter is likely the less distracting, and thus preferable,
option—although of course, the same singer should never do double duty within a single
scene.
184
Newport recording. Despite its brevity, this passage is crucial in illustrating King Marc's
mercy and compassion, which are key factors in driving the story—a consideration that
might be seen to further justify such an approach.
Two character roles (La Mère d'Iseut in act 1, scene 1 and Iseut aux Blanches
Mains in act 3, scene 5) and two additional narrative passages (in act 3, scenes 2 and 4)
are assigned to altos. Here again, although Martin uses the same two singers in both
capacities, a performance might be better served by avoiding such double duty. Of the
two roles, La Mère d'Iseut is the more extensive and more demanding, spanning a wide
range (from G#3 to F5) and calling for both dramatic richness and gravitas. Besides the
roles of Tristan (T2) and Kaherdin (T3), Martin employs a tenor for only one additional
narrative passage, in act 1, scene 3.

Background Material
Martin's libretto for Le Vin Herbé consists of excerpts taken verbatim from
Bédier's novel Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, and occasionally makes reference to people,
places, or events introduced and developed elsewhere, in parts of the novel not included
in the libretto. Unless an explanation is provided through program notes, a pre-concert
lecture, or other means, these "dangling" allusions could be confusing, frustrating, or
distracting for the audience. For one thing the first act, corresponding to Bédier's fourth
chapter, brings the audience into a story already underway. While much of the
dramatically essential context can be inferred, a brief summary of the foregoing events of
the narrative can be very helpful in orienting the listener within the drama, particularly
185
with respect to several specific references. For example, by the time Martin's libretto
picks up the story, Tristan and Iseut have already shared two prior encounters. In act 1,
scene 2, on board the ship bound for Cornwall, Iseut reflects upon those meetings:
He had come, he who [to Iseut] seemed the ravisher, the murderer of Morholt!
He had snatched her through his tricks from her mother and her homeland! He
had not deigned to keep her for himself! And now he carried her, as his prey,
over the waves toward enemy lands!
40

One important dramatic function of this passage is to establish a "baseline" relationship
between Tristan and Iseut that is characterized not merely by indifference, but in fact (at
least on the part of Iseut) by a degree of animosity or even hatred. This allows their
subsequent attraction to be ascribed entirely to the effects of the potion, thereby absolving
the lovers of ultimate moral responsibility for their transgression. While Iseut's disdain
for Tristan is certainly evident from the tone of the passage, a deeper understanding of the
back story—and in particular, of the circumstances concerning Tristan's "murder" of
Iseut's uncle, and the subsequent "surrogate bridequest" by which he wins her on behalf
of King Marc—has the potential to enrich the drama significantly. In act 1, scene 6, Iseut
once again underscores the feelings of resentment that serve as an opposing force to her
induced attraction for Tristan, now specifically with regard to their second prior
encounter:
Ah! If only I had not healed the injured minstrel's wounds long ago! If I had left
the monster-slayer to perish in the marsh! If I had struck him when he was lying

40
"Il était venu, lui le ravisseur, lui le meurtrier du Morholt! Il l'avait arrachée,
par ses ruses, à sa mère et à son pays! Il n'avait pas daigné la garder pour lui-même! Et
voici qu'il l'emportait, comme sa proie, sur les flots, vers la terre ennemie!"
186
in the bath, with the sword already brandished! Alas! I knew not then what I
know today.
41

Here again, not only would a clearer grasp of the back story help the audience to
understand the otherwise somewhat cryptic references, but it would also serve to
highlight the irony posed by that prior encounter, thereby enhancing the dramatic tension.
Two similar allusions serve to illustrate the close bond of kinship underlying
Tristan's relationship with King Marc. The first is found in act 1, scene 4:
Good uncle, who loved me as an orphan even before recognizing the blood of
your sister Blanchefleur, you who wept tenderly for me, while your arms carried
me to the boat without oars or sail...
42

Here too, the audience can certainly infer from the passage that Tristan and Marc share a
close bond arising from their prior history, even without any supplemental explanation.
On the other hand, not only would a more fleshed-out narrative context help to clarify the
reference, but it would also establish a more vivid picture of that relationship, thus
heightening the dramatic impact of Tristan's betrayal. In act 2, scene 3, Tristan again
makes reference to their past history while considering whether to leave the forest:

41
"Ah! que n'ai-je avivé naguère les plaies du jongleur blessé! que n'ai-je laissé
périr le tueur du monstre dans le marécage! que n'ai-je asséné sur lui, quand il gisait dans
le bain, le coup de l'épée déjà brandie! Hélas! je ne savais pas alors ce que je sais
aujourd'hui."

42
"Bel oncle, qui m'avez aimé orphelin avant même de reconnaître le sang de
votre sœur Blanchefleur, vous qui me pleuriez tendrement, tandis que vos bras me
portaient jusqu'à la barque sans rames ni voile..."

187
And then he has remembered the child that once played the harp at his feet, and
my homeland of Lyonesse, which he abandoned, and the spear of Morholt, and
the blood shed for his honor...
43

Furthermore, moments earlier in the same scene, Tristan refers to Marc as "père"
("father"), despite the fact that elsewhere he repeatedly calls him "bel oncle" ("good
uncle"). Here again, a clearer sense of the history underlying the relationship between
these two characters would serve both to enliven the drama and to stave off potential
confusion.
Several more allusions in Martin's libretto, while less crucial to the fundamental
story line, might also stand to benefit from further explanation. These include two
references to the four felons (barons of Marc's court who had conspired to supplant
Tristan as Marc's heir), three to the lepers (to whom Marc abandoned Iseut as punishment
for her betrayal, and from whose custody Tristan rescued her), and one to the hermit
Ogrin, who had previously counseled Tristan to return Iseut to Marc, and to whom
Tristan returns when he finally resolves to do so. Finally, the concept of "trial by
combat", mentioned several times in Le Vin Herbé, also merits a word of explanation.

Conclusions
Le Vin Herbé is an underappreciated work by an often underrated composer. It
offers a fresh perspective on a timeless tale familiar to modern audiences primarily
through Wagner's lavish setting, now rendered in a form that is more modern, more

43
"Il s'est alors rappelé l'enfant qui, jadis, harpait à ses pieds, et ma terre de
Loonnois, abandonnée pour lui, et l'épieu du Morholt, et le sang versé pour son
honneur..."
188
streamlined, and more faithful to the legend's origins. The modest performing forces
required make it practically accessible even to small organizations with modest budgets.
One likely reason the work is often passed over is that it does not fall neatly into any
particular category. The nature of Martin's choral narration calls for a more unified,
ensemble-driven aesthetic than most operas, while at the same time, a majority of the
individual singers are called upon to bring to life the various characters essential to the
story's trajectory, and to do so with conviction and nuanced expression. As Martin
originally fashioned it, the work thus requires a highly versatile group of singers, equally
adept at both solo and ensemble performance. An alternative performance practice,
exemplified by two recent recordings of the work, applies a more "choral" approach to
these narrative passages through modest reinforcement of the vocal parts. Such adaptive
measures allow the work to be assimilated into the more straightforward, choral-driven
oratorio tradition that is the stock-and-trade of many musical organizations, bringing the
work within reach of even dedicated amateur choruses, as Mark Shapiro and I Cantori di
New York have demonstrated.
Musically, Le Vin Herbé reflects the synthesis of those various elements that
constitute Martin's mature, refined, and unique compositional voice, and which would
characterize virtually all of his later works. Among these are an innately lyrical approach
to musical expression, a broad understanding of the expressive idioms of particular
instruments, and the mastery of musical form—not merely as a mold that shapes the
course of the music, but as a free and flexible element that substantively contributes to
the effectiveness of musical and dramatic expression. Perhaps the most distinctive
189
element of Martin's unique style, however, is his approach to harmonic coloration, which
is based on the use of ostensibly tonal chords in non-tonal or non-functional progressions,
parallel chord streams, an independent and often dissonant bass line, and careful control
over the level of harmonic dissonance. A related and equally important element is the
manner in which Martin assimilated certain elements of dodecaphonic practice, in an
effort to harness the melodic (and harmonic) enrichment afforded by such techniques.
His particular method of applying these principles was not nearly as dogmatic as
Schoenberg's, and yet it was far more varied and complex than the mere "melodicization"
of tone rows to which some writers have reduced it. In this, as in so many things,
Martin's compositional practice is perfectly aligned with his philosophy—specifically,
with the idea that a composer should feel free to exploit any technique that offers
enrichment, subject at all times to his own creative judgment and the aesthetic demands
of the music, and without being strictly bound by slavish adherence to an arbitrary set of
rules.
The unusually long gestation of Martin's mature style encompassed the careful
study and judicious assimilation of an eclectic array of musical influences. Chief among
those are the counterpoint of Bach, the chromatic harmony and tonal ambiguity of
Impressionism, the rhythmic freedom and complexity of various medieval and folk
musical styles, and the dodecaphonic techniques of the Second Viennese School. In each
case, rather than simply adopting these elements wholesale, Martin patiently integrated
them into his own personal aesthetic through a gradual process of experimentation and
refinement. By synthesizing this eclectic array of influences, Martin cultivated a style as
190
refined and distinctive as any, and yet his means of expression were seen as reserved and
conservative relative to the bold experiments of some of his contemporaries—a fact that
has often been blamed for the failure of Martin's music to earn more widespread acclaim.
The adventures of the young carried them past Martin before his work had time to
reach an audience as wide as Berg's or Bartok's. And without the help of fashion
his later works, continually more refined and powerful...would need many years
to win the popularity they deserve.
44

In retrospect, the music of Frank Martin is not experimental, trendy or locked in a
dead end, but rather it is clearly in the main stream of the evolution of European
art music. Just as Frank Martin learned patience in the slow and careful
development of his art, so the gradual acceptance of his music by a larger
audience worldwide awaits the patient passage of years.
45

It is hoped that this present study may play a part in facilitating that process, and in
helping Martin's works—and Le Vin Herbé in particular—to reach the wider audience
they deserve. What Martin offers in this particular work is much more than merely a
musical setting of Joseph Bédier's prose; his music both enhances and builds upon the
significant literary contribution of Bédier's Roman. Through this musical offering, Frank
Martin joins Bédier and a host of other conteurs, both before and since, in leaving his
own indelible and unique imprint on the vast, timeless, and continually evolving
landscape of Tristan lore.

44
William W. Austin, Music in the 20
th
Century from Debussy through Stravinsky
(New York: Norton, 1966), 496-7.

45
King, Frank Martin, 8.
191

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Recordings

Martin, Frank. Le Vin Herbé. Winterthur Ensemble. Victor Desarzens (conductor).
Westminster XWN 2232, 1961, 2 LPs. Reissued as Jecklin Disco 581-2, 1989, 2
compact discs.

———. Le Vin Herbé. RIAS Kammerchor and Scharoun-Ensemble. Daniel Reuss
(conductor). Harmonia Mundi HMC 901935-6, 2007, 2 compact discs.

———. Le Vin Herbé. I Cantori di New York. Mark Shapiro (conductor). Newport
Classic 85670, 2000, 2 compact discs.

Scores

Martin, Frank. Le Vin Herbé (Der Zaubertrank). Vienna: Universal-Edition, 1943.

———. Le Vin Herbé (Der Zaubertrank): Partition pour piano (piano-vocal score).
Vienna: Universal-Edition, 1943.

Books and Journal Articles

Ansermet, Ernest. Correspondance, 1934-1968: Ernest Ansermet, Frank Martin.
Neuchâtel: A la Baconnière, 1976.

———. “Frank Martin.” In Larousse Encyclopedia of Music. New York: Crescent
Books, 1987.

192
———. "Frank Martins Historische Stellung." Österreichische Musikzeitschrift 24
(March 1969): 137-141.

Baltensperger, André. "Fragen des Métiers bei Frank Martin." In Veröffentlichungen der
Paul Sacher Stiftung, Band 2: 157-234. Winterthur: Amadeus Verlag, 1991.

Bédier, Joseph. "The Legend of Tristan and Isolt." Translated by Susan Hilles Taber.
International Quarterly 9 (March-June 1904): 103-128.

———. Le Roman de Tristan et Iseut, 24
th
ed. Paris: H. Piazza et cie,, n.d.
https://archive.org/details/leromandetristan00bduoft

Billeter, Bernhard. “Martin, Frank.” In New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians
11: 715-718. London: Macmillan Publishers, Ltd., 1980.

———. Frank Martin: ein Aussenseiter der neuen Musik. Frauenfeld, Switzerland:
Verlag Huber & Co., 1970.

———. Frank Martin: Werdegang und Musiksprache seiner Werke. Mainz: Schott
Musik International, 1999.

———. Die Harmonik bei Frank Martin: untersuchungen zur Analyse neuerer Musik.
Berne: Verlag Paul Haupt, 1971.

———. "Die letzten Vokalwerke von Frank Martin." Schweitzerische
Musikzeitung/Revue Musicale 116, no. 5 (September/October 1976): 344-51.

Brandt, Regina. Religiöse Grundzüge im Werk von Frank Martin. Regensburg: G.
Bosse, 1992.

Briner, Andres. "Frank Martins Originalität: Zeitgebundenheit und Zeitfreiheit des
Komponisten." Neue Zürcher Zeitung 211, no. 214 (September 15-16, 1990): 65.

Buschinger, Danielle, ed. La légende de Tristan au moyen âge. Actes du colloque des 16
et 17 janvier 1982, Université de Picardie, Centre d'études médiévales.
Göppingen: Kümmerle, 1982.

Cooke, Mervyn. "Frank Martin's Early Development." Musical Times 131, no. 1771
(September 1990): 473-78.

———. "Late Starter." Musical Times 134, no. 1801 (March 1993): 134-6; continues in
no. 1802 (April 1993): 197-9.

Curtis, Renée L. Tristan Studies. Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1969.
193

Eisner, Sigmund. The Tristan Legend: A Study in Sources. Evanston, IL: Northwestern
University Press, 1969.

Emery, Eric, ed. Frank Martin: musique et esthétique musicale: actes du colloque de La
Chaux-de-Fonds, 1990. Lausanne: Revue musicale de Suisse romande, 1995.

Fischer, Kurt von. "Frank Martin." Schweitzerische Musikzeitung/Revue Musicale 111,
no. 1 (January/February 1971): 3-7.

Griffiths, Paul. "Frank Martin" (obituary). Musical Times 116, no. 1583 (January 1975):
68.

Grimbert, Joan Tasker, ed. Tristan and Isolde: A Casebook. New York: Garland
Publishing, Inc., 1995.

Haule, John Ryan. Divine Madness: Archetypes of Romantic Love. Carmel, CA: Fisher
King Press, 2010.

Hodges, Craig. "The Solo Vocal Music of Frank Martin." National Association of
Teachers of Singing 43, no. 2 (November/December 1986): 14-21.

Kämper, Dietrich, ed. Frank Martin: Das kompositorische Werk. Mainz: Schott, 1993.

King, Charles W. Frank Martin: A Bio-Bibliography. New York: Greenwood Press,
1990.

Klein, Rudolf. Frank Martin: sein Leben und Werk. Vienna: Verlag Österreichische
Musikzeitschrift, 1960.

Koelliker, Andrée. Frank Martin. Lausanne: Etude présentée pour les examens
d'histoire de la musique du Conservatoire de Lausanne, 1963.

Leith, Edward Tyrrell. On the Legend of Tristan: Its Origin in Myth and Its Development
in Romance. Bombay: Education Society's Press, 1868.

Martin, Bernard. Frank Martin, ou la réalité du rêve. Neuchâtel: A la Baconnière, 1973.

Martin, Frank. A propos de... Commentaires de Frank Martin sur ses oeuvres. Published
by Maria Martin. Neuchâtel: A la Baconnière, 1984.

———. "A propos de mon concerto de violon." Revue Musicale 212 (April 1952): 111-
115.

194
———. "A propos du langage musical contemporain." Schweizerische Musikzeitung 77
(October 1937): 501-505.

———. Un compositeur médite sur son art: ecrits et pensées recueillis par sa femme.
Neuchâtel: A la Baconnière, 1977.

———. Correspondance Frank Martin—J.-Claude Piguet (1965-1974). Geneva:
Georg, 2001.

———. Lettres à Victor Desarzens: témoignages de collaboration et d'amitié entre le
compositeur et son interprète. Lausanne: L'age d'homme, 1988.

———. Notwendigkeit einer Gegenwartskunst, Gedanken zum "Vin Herbé". Amriswil:
Bodensee-Verlag, 1957.

———. Responsabilité du Compositeur. Athénée-Genève: Société des Arts, 1966.

———. "Le rôle de l'art dans la Société d'aujourd'hui." Schweitzerische
Musikzeitung/Revue musicale 116, no. 5 (September/October 1976): 329-343.

———. “Schönberg et les conséquences de son activité.” Schweitzerische
Musikzeitung/Revue musicale 116, no. 5 (September/October 1976): 359-364.

———. "Schönberg et nous." Polyphonie 4 (1950): 68-71. Translated as "Schönberg
and Ourselves," Score 6 (1952): 15-17.

———, and Jean-Claude Piguet. Entretiens sur la musique. Neuchâtel: A la
Baconnière, 1967.

Martin, Maria, ed. Frank Martin: l'univers d'un compositeur: catalogue de l'exposition
commémorant le dixième anniversaire de la mort de Frank Martin. Lausanne: La
Société Frank Martin, 1984.

———. Souvenirs de ma vie avec Frank Martin. Lausanne: L'age d'homme, 1990.

"Martin's 'Le Vin Herbé." Musical Times 88, no. 1258 (December 1947): 395.

McDonald, William C. Arthur and Tristan: On the Intersection of Legends in German
Medieval Literature. Lewiston, NY: The Edwin Mellen Press, 1991.

Menasce, Jacques de. "Switzerland: Frank Martin and his Petite Symphonie
Concertante." Musical Quarterly 34, no. 2 (April 1948): 249-282.

195
Picozzi, Rosemary. A History of Tristan Scholarship. Berne: Herbert Lang & Co., Ltd.,
1971.

Reich, Willi. "Activity in Switzerland." Tempo 11 (June 1945): 11.

———, and Ernest Sanders. "On Swiss Musical Composition of the Present." Musical
Quarterly 51, no. 1 (January 1965): 78-91.

Schaefer, Jacqueline T. "The French Modern Prose Remaniements of Tristan." In
Arturus Rex: Acta Conventus Lovaniensis, 462-76. Leuven, Belgium: Leuven
University Press, 1991.

Schoepperle, Gertrude. Tristan and Isolt: A Study of the Sources of the Romance. 2 vols.
Frankfurt: Joseph Baer & Co., 1913.

Schüssler, Kerstin. Frank Martins Musiktheater: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Oper im
20. Jahrhundert. Kassel: Gustav Bosse Verlag, 1996.

Simpson, Roger. Radio Camelot: Arthurian Legends on the BBC, 1922-2005.
Woodbridge: D. S. Brewer, 2008.

Skulsky, Abraham. "Frank Martin: A Clear Understanding of His Ideals of Expression."
Musical America 69 (August 1949): 8, 18.

Spencer, Stewart and Barry Millington, eds. Selected Letters of Richard Wagner. New
York: W. W. Norton, 1988.

Thomas of Brittany. Le Roman de Tristan par Thomas. Poème du XII
e
siècle. Edited by
Joseph Bédier. 2 vols. Paris: Société des anciens textes français, 1902-1905.

Tobeck, Christina. "Frank Martin's Le Vin Herbé: A Study from a Stockholm
Perspective." In Crosscurrents and Counterpoints: Offerings in Honor of Bengt
Hambraeus at 70, edited by Per F. Broman, et al., 95-101. Gothenberg:
University of Gothenburg Department of Musicology, 1998.

Reviews of Books, Performances, and Recordings

Adams, William. Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Newport NPD
85670. Choral Journal 43, no. 7 (February 2003): 72-3.

Anderson, Martin. Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Newport
NPD 85670. Fanfare 24, no. 1 (September/October 2000): 137.

196
Bonte, Hans Georg. "Zur Aufführung des 'Zaubertrank' beim Fest der Deutschen
Chormusik Essen 1953." Review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank
Martin. Zeitschrift für Musik 114 (1953): 347-8.

"Current Chronicle: Munich." Unsigned review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by
Frank Martin. Musical Quarterly 48, no. 4 (October 1962): 525-528.

Deutsch, Nicholas A. "A Strong Performance of a Masterpiece—With a Big Caution."
Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Newport NPD 85670.
April 7, 2000. www.amazon.com/Le-Vin-Herbé-Complete-Opera/dp
/B00004KD4H.

———. "Beautifully Sung and Played, Yet Not Fully Satisfying." Review of recording
of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Harmonia Mundi HMC 901935-6. February 9,
2009. www.amazon.com/Frank-Martin-Davislim-Böhnert-Scharoun
-Ensemble/dp/B000N8UX0G.

Emslie, Barry. Review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin. Opera 51, no.
8 (August 2000): 960-1.

Frankenstein, Alfred. "Le Vin Herbé: What Debussy Planned Now Consummately
Achieved." Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Westminster
XWN 2232. High Fidelity 12 (May 1962): 66.

Goldmann, A.J. "Le Vin Herbé." Review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank
Martin. Opera News 78, no. 3 (September 2013). http://www.operanews.com
/Opera_News_Magazine/2013/9/Reviews/BERLIN__Le_Vin_Herbé.html.

Holland, Bernard. "Oratorio: Le Vin Herbé." Review of performance of Le Vin Herbé,
by Frank Martin. New York Times, April 21, 1985. www.nytimes.com/1985
/04/21/arts/oratorio-le-vin-herbe.html.

Jacobi, Peter. "Review of Recorded Music: Non Wagnerian Tristan, Non...." Review of
recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Westminster XWN 2232. Music
Magazine 164 (July 1962): 48.

Kasow, Joel. Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Harmonia Mundi
HMC 901935-6. Fanfare 30, no. 6 (July/August 2007): 165-6.

Kettle, Martin. Review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin. The
Guardian, January 11, 2010. www.theguardian.com/music/2010/jan/11
/le-vin-herbe-review.

197
Koob, Lindsay. Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Harmonia
Mundi HMC 901935-6. American Record Guide 70, no. 4 (July/August 2007):
130.

Law, Richard. Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Newport NPD
85670. Opera 52, no. 2 (February 2001): 251-2.

"London Concerts." Unsigned review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin.
The Musical Times 89, no. 1261 (March 1948): 89-91.

Molleson, Kate. “Le Vin Herbé.” Review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank
Martin. Opera 61, no. 3 (March 2010): 341-2.

Parsons, Charles. Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Newport NPD
85670. American Record Guide 63, no. 4 (July/August 2000): 156.

Reed, Peter. Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Harmonia Mundi
HMC 901935-6. Opera 58, no. 7 (July 2007): 870-1.

Rochester, Marc. Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Harmonia
Mundi HMC 901935-6. Gramophone 1020 (July 2007): 89.

Roihl, Daniel. Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin: Harmonia Mundi
HMC 901935-6. Choral Journal 48, no. 12 (June/July 2008): 78.

Rosenblum, Joshua. “Rare Vintage.” Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank
Martin: Newport NPD 85670. Opera News 65, no. 1 (July 2000): 40-1.

———. “Ravishing Refinement.” Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank
Martin: Harmonia Mundi HMC 901935-6. Opera News 72, no. 5 (November
2007): 62.

Schweikert, Uwe. "Sehnsüchte." Review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank
Martin. Opernwelt 48, no. 11 (November 2007): 21-2.

Sealey, Mark. "Le Vin Herbé." Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin:
Harmonia Mundi HMC 901935-6. www.classical.net/music/recs/reviews
/h/hmu93536a.php, 2009.

Silsbury, Elizabeth. Review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank Martin. Opera
41, no. 9 (September 1990): 1096.

198
Trilling, Ossia. "Frank Martin und Betty Roe beim Winterfestival: ‘Le Vin Herbé’ und
‘Gaslight’ in Camden." Review of performance of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank
Martin. Opernwelt 24, no. 3 (March 1983): 47-8.

Vratz, Christoph. "Was fur ein Chor!" Review of recording of Le Vin Herbé, by Frank
Martin: Harmonia Mundi HMC 901935-6. Opernwelt 48, no. 6 (June 2007): 56.

Whittall, Arnold. Review of Un Compositeur Médite sur son Art, by Frank Martin.
Music & Letters 59, no. 4 (October 1978): 496-498.

Dissertations

Tupper, Janet Eloise. "Stylistic Analysis of Selected Works by Frank Martin." PhD
diss., Indiana University, 1964.

199
Appendix A: Scene-By-Scene Musical Analysis of Le Vin Herbé
The following charts provide an analytical overview of each scene, indicating
structural divisions and subdivisions, appearances of the three principal rows and their
transformations, and the use of recurring musical materials and/or compositional devices.
Local tonal centers are rarely established explicitly or unambiguously; more often they
are intimated more subtly through the use of pedal tones, quasi-cadential progressions,
recurring sonorities of repose, or other techniques. Where such tonal "suggestions" are
perceptible, they have been indicated on the charts. Recurring musical materials and
compositional devices are indicated by numeric codes, and a key to those codes is
provided after the analyses. Since the tempo and meter are often highly fluid, the charts
are visually organized according to approximate elapsed time, rather than mensuration.

Prologue
Con moto
q = 108
[1]
(Scale = 3:1)
Time 0:00 0:22
Reh. # [1]
Vocal Choral narration
4 1, 2, 3
Bass/ B
Tonality pedal D#
Ø7
/G# → F
Text Seigneurs… Ecoutez… lui par elle…
C'est de… puis en moururent… elle par lui.
Musical
Materials
Row

200
Act I, scene 1
Allegro moderato
q = 100
L'istesso tempo
Andante
h = 52
animando
Andante
q = 60
Poco animato
Time 0:00 0:46 1:29 1:49 2:30 2:49 3:23 3:55 4:13
Reh. # [2] [5] [6] [8] [9] [11] [14] [15]
Vocal Choral narr. Mère d'Iseut (warning) Chorus "echo"
(polyph….unis….homoph)
4b, 5 4a 6 5 4a, 7 7 4a 8
R
2
(A) R
2
(A) R
2
(A) P
2
(A)
(bass) (distrib.) (bass) P
10
(A)?
Bm
Bass/ A# row- A# F-C# A#
Tonality pedal ROW based pedal ROW peds. pedal
Text Quand le temps… Cache-le… Ceux qui…
Fille… Prends garde… Ceux qui…
Musical
Materials
Row P
7
(A)

Act I, scene 2
Con moto
q = 84
Time 0:00 1:10 1:33 2:30
Reh. # [4] [5] [9]
Bar. 4 consecutive Iseut exclam.
Vocal Choral narr. solo female solos (chorus accomp:
(+ "ah") (4-pt. men accomp.) unison…4-pt.)
9, 10 9 11 → 6 → 11 10a, 1, 8
(D ostinato) (D ostinato)
Bass/ D C#
Tonality pedal pedal
Text La nef… Il était venu…
Quand Tristan… Chétive!...
Musical
Materials
Row

201
Act I, scene 3
Adagio
q = 60
a tempo
(poco più mosso)
q = 66
Con moto
q = 96
Lento tranquillo
q = 56
Più animato
q = 66
Agitato
Time 0:00 0:25 1:28 2:35 3:17 3:54 4:51
Reh. # [1] [3] [7] [9] [11] [15]
Bass solo Tenor solo Bass solo Tenor Bass solo Branghien
Vocal narr. narr. exclam. narr. narr. exclam.
6 4a, 8, 12 13 4a, 8, 12, 13
P
0
(A) P
0
(A) P
8
(A) P
0
(B): love theme P
8
(A)
(cello) (distributed) (bass) (solo%violin) (bass)
Bass/ C# F-Bb Bb/Eb→A/C# F-Bb
Tonality ROW pedal ROW (ostinato) ROW
Text Un jour… Non! ce n'était… En cet instant…
Seule Iseut… L'enfant remplit… Malheureuse…
Musical
Materials
Row

Act I, scene 3
Adagio
q = 60
a tempo
(poco più mosso)
q = 66
Con moto
q = 96
Lento tranquillo
q = 56
Più animato
q = 66
Agitato
Time 0:00 0:25 1:28 2:35 3:17 3:54 4:51
Reh. # [1] [3] [7] [9] [11] [15]
Bass solo Tenor solo Bass solo Tenor Bass solo Branghien
Vocal narr. narr. exclam. narr. narr. exclam.
6 4a, 8, 12 13 4a, 8, 12, 13
P
0
(A) P
0
(A) P
8
(A) P
0
(B): love theme P
8
(A)
(cello) (distributed) (bass) (solo%violin) (bass)
Bass/ C# F-Bb Bb/Eb→A/C# F-Bb
Tonality ROW pedal ROW (ostinato) ROW
Text Un jour… Non! ce n'était… En cet instant…
Seule Iseut… L'enfant remplit… Malheureuse…
Musical
Materials
Row

202
Act I, scene 4
Allegro agitato
q = 104
Molto moderato
q = 66
Time 0:00 0:39 1:17 2:41 3:31 3:49
Reh. # [2] [4] [8] [10] [11]
Vocal Tristan (inner conflict)
A A' B A''
14 (4a + 10) 6 6
1 1 1, (8)
R
9
(A) P
11
(A) P
11
(A)
(melody) (melody) (distributed)
Bass/ D (B G#) D → row-based row-based…
Tonality pedal …Am/G#
→ E
Text De nouveau… Andret, Denoalenn… Iseut est votre femme…
et par de forts… Ah! Qu'ai-je pense?
P
11
(A)
(distributed)
Musical
Materials
Row
Choral narr.
(unison)

Act I, scene 5
Allegro agitato
q. = 144
[1] [4] [6] [9]
(Scale = 3:1)
Time 0:00 0:12 0:38 0:56 1:19
Reh. # [1] [4] [6] [9]
(ROW)
Vocal ← ← Choral narration → →
unis. → 4pts. unis. 3 pts. → 4pts., 5pts.
1, (3)
P
0
(A)
P
0
P
7
P
10
I
3
P
1
P
9
P
10
P
9
P
6
P
10
P
1
P
10
P
3
P
0
P
1
P
10
P
3
P
0
Bass/
Tonality C# G# C# Bb D F# D# C E G F# A G# G F# C G F# D#
Text Iseut l'amait… Branghien… plus malheureux encor…
ne l'avait-il pas… Deux jours…
Musical
Materials
Row

203

Act I, scene 6
Allegro molto tranquillo
q = 92
Molto lento
q = 46
Andante
q = 72
pochissimo animando
Con moto
q = 100
Tranquillo
q = 84
Time 0:00 0:30 1:06 2:49 3:30 3:52 4:33 5:10
Reh. # [2] [4] [9] [10] [11] [13] [15]
Iseut Tris.
Vocal Choral then Iseut Tris. Iseut Choral then
narr. Tristan narr. Iseut
4a, 5, 8 13 4a 6
A A' A''
I
11
(A) → → → I
11
(A)
(bass) P
9
(B) (bass)
love theme
pedal pedal
Bass/ C G# G# F C A
Tonality pedal ← ← ROW → → pedal
Text Au troisième jour… Non, tu le sais… Iseut, Ah! Tout… Amie,
Entrez, Seigneur! que savez-vous… Elle posa… qu'est-ce…
Musical
Materials
Row
*A (interrupts row)

Molto lento
q = 44
Allegro agitato
q = 112
Meno mosso. Pesante
q = 72
Pochiss. più mosso
q = 80
Più mosso q = 92
Più animato
Andante molto tranquillo
q = 72
5:43 6:29 7:06 7:51 8:51 9:09 9:48 10:20 11:03
[16] [17] [21] [24] [27] [28] [30] [31] [32]
Choral Branghien exclamation → → → Choral narr. Choral
Choral narr. Chorus amplifies → → → (unis.) narr.
narr. (unis.) 4 pts. unis. 4 pts. → Trist. (unis.)
13 14 1 2 11 → 6 → 11 4a 11 1 9 2
fantasia on B: R
0
(A) R
1
(A) P
5
(A) P
6
(A)?
P
0
, P
5
, P
1
(frags) (distrib.) w/o (melody)
P
9
(love theme) D
(D ostinato)
A
pedal B G# E C# A# G
Mais comme…Malheureux! C'est le vin herbé… Ami Tristan… Les amants…
Alors it posa… Déjà la voie… vous avez bu… Et quand le soir…
Largo
q = 66

204

Molto lento
q = 44
Allegro agitato
q = 112
Meno mosso. Pesante
q = 72
Pochiss. più mosso
q = 80
Più mosso q = 92
Più animato
Andante
molto tranquillo
q = 72
5:43 6:29 7:06 7:51 8:51 9:09 9:48 10:20 11:03
[16] [17] [21] [24] [27] [28] [30] [31] [32]
Choral Branghien exclamation → → → Choral narr. Choral
Choral narr. Chorus amplifies → → → (unis.) narr.
narr. (unis.) 4 pts. unis. 4 pts. → Trist. (unis.)
13 14 1 2 11 → 6 → 11 4a 11 1 9 2
fantasia on B: R
0
(A) R
1
(A) P
5
(A) P
6
(A)?
P
0
, P
5
, P
1
(frags) (distrib.) w/o (melody)
P
9
(love theme) D
(D ostinato)
A
pedal B G# E C# A# G
Mais comme…Malheureux! C'est le vin herbé… Ami Tristan… Les amants… Et quand le soir…
Alors it posa… Déjà la voie… vous avez bu…
Largo
q = 66

Act II, scene 1
(Scale = 2:1)
Allegro agitato
q = 132
Poco animando
Più tranquillo
h = 60
Lento
q = 52
Time 0:00 0:15 0:32 0:49 1:13 1:46
Reh. # [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]
Vocal
4 pts. unison 4 pts.
15a 15a 2 6 15a 8
Bass/
Tonality Em? C - A Em?
Iseut est reine… Tristan et la reine… Alors quittant…
Mais déjà… Au saut de la chapelle… Là, dans les grands bois…
Text
Musical
Materials
Row
← ← Choral narration → →

205
Act II, scene 2
Recit.
Andante con moto
q = 72
Molto largamente
q = 52
Animato
Tranquillo
Time 0:00 1:46 2:50
Reh. # [3] [5]
Bass solo
Vocal narr. Marc
16 6, 17 6 8
A A'
Bass/ half cad. half cad. Gm/F#→
Tonality A → D in E? D in A? D F#m
Text Un jour, guidé… Non, je ne les tuerai…
Dieu! Que vois-je ici?
Musical
Materials
Row
str. echo

Act II, scene 3
Allegro molto
q = 176
Molto lento
q = 48
Andante
q = 72
Andante con moto
q = 88
Meno mosso
Andante
q = 76
sempre animando
molto (q = 100)
Molto allegro
h = 116
Time 0:00 0:45 1:30 1:54 2:27 3:06 3:41 4:17 4:54
Reh. # [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [11] [14]
Choral
Vocal narr. Tristan (inner conflict) Tristan (inner conflict)
(unis.)
15b 8 15b 15, 6 11? 15b 15, 6 15, 6
Bass/ Ebm half cad.
(V→ I ?)
Tonality D B C in C#? D G# F# B … B
A trois jours de là… Et s'il voulait… Il s'est alors… il desire…
Non, ne c'est pas… Il a connu… Il s'est rappelé…
Text
Musical
Materials
Row

206

Molto lento
q = 40
Meno lento ma
pesante q = 60
Andante
q = 72
Agitato
Largamente
q = 58
Lento
q = 56
5:30 6:30 7:07 7:48 8:21 9:10 Time
[17] [18] [20] [22] [24] [25] Reh. #
Choral
Tristan (inner conflict) narr. Vocal
(unis.)
(3) 15b, 11, (3) 15b (8) 15b 3
C#m+6
D#-G#-
C# ...G# C# C F#-B C#
Naguère… Au seigneur Dieu… Text
Qu'ai-je pensé? Voici que par sa compassion… Tristan s'appuye…
Musical
Materials
Row

Act II, scene 4
Andante con moto
q = 76
Molto tranquillo
q = 60
quasi recit.
a tempo
Time 0:00 0:51 1:39 2:12 2:28 3:13
Reh. # [2] [4] [5] [7]
Choral Iseut
Vocal narr. (inner conflict)
(4pt. Sop/Alto) A trans. B B' A'
18 19 20 28 18 19 20
Bass/
Tonality ? …Gn? Em? BM …Gm? EM-Em …?
Dans le fourré… Non, c'est… Tristan ne devrait-il…
Celui qui… Commme il aimait… Mais pour moi…
Musical
Materials
Row
Text

207
Act II, scene 5
Andante
q = 76
Molto lento
Andante
recit. lento
Allegro q = 132
Lento
q = 66
Poco più mosso
Meno mosso
Molto tranquillo
q = 60
Time 0:00 0:43 1:08 1:41 2:25 2:54 3:24 4:05 5:05
Reh. # [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [8] [9] [10]
Choral Choral Choral
Vocal narr. Tris. narr. Tristan Iseut narr.
(unis.) (unis.) (4 pts.)
16 6, 17 16, 20 3 3 15a → 13 8→15
Bass/ (V→ I?)
Tonality ← C# → F# D B Em? Em?
Elle entendit… Iseut prit l'épée… Puis si le roi… Iseut, je ne songerais… Ils éveillèrent Gorvenal…
Amie, c'est l'épée… Amie, si je pouvais… et, s'il préf´rait… Tristan, qu'il vous…
Musical
Materials
Row
Text

Act II, scene 5
Andante
q = 76
Molto lento
Andante
recit. lento
Allegro q = 132
Lento
q = 66
Poco più mosso
Meno mosso
Molto tranquillo
q = 60
Time 0:00 0:43 1:08 1:41 2:25 2:54 3:24 4:05 5:05
Reh. # [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [8] [9] [10]
Choral Choral Choral
Vocal narr. Tris. narr. Tristan Iseut narr.
(unis.) (unis.) (4 pts.)
16 6, 17 16, 20 3 3 15a → 13 8→15
Bass/ (V→ I?)
Tonality ← C# → F# D B Em? Em?
Elle entendit… Iseut prit l'épée… Puis si le roi… Iseut, je ne songerais… Ils éveillèrent Gorvenal…
Amie, c'est l'épée… Amie, si je pouvais… et, s'il préf´rait… Tristan, qu'il vous…
Musical
Materials
Row
Text

208
Act III, scene 1
Largo lamentoso
q = 60
Più mosso
h = 69
Time 0:00 0:36 1:32 2:04 2:34 3:19 3:35
Reh. # [1] [3] [4] [5] [7] [8]
Choral Bar. Hoël then Choral
Vocal narr. solo Bar. then exclam.
(2pt. Sop./Alto) Tristan
21 21 6 13 2, 8
A B A' 4a, 21a
P
0
(C)
(1st half only)
(melody)
Bass/
Tonality Fm B… G#... Fm
Les amants… Mais pendant… Ami, je ne saurais…
Séparés… Alors il crut… Ah! Seigneurs…
Musical
Materials
Row
Con moto -
molto agitato
h = 92
Text

Act III, scene 2
Molto impetuoso
q = 116
L'istesso tempo
ma pesante
h = 58
Time 0:00 0:39 1:16 1:48 2:44 3:33
Reh. # [3] [5] [7] [9] [11]
Bar. solo Choral Alto solo Choral
Vocal narr. narr. narr. narr.
(unis.) (3 pts.) (unis.)
22 8 8
B pedal (V→ I ?)
Bass/ (tremolo) G B
Tonality pedal pedal
…F#
Or, il advint… Tristan ne fait… Alors il voulut…
Les médecins vinrent… Il sentit que… Il attend…
Musical
Materials
Row
Text

209
Act III, scene 3
Lento
q = 66
Più mosso
q = 84
Un poco agitato
Lento
q = 63
più agitato
Lento
Più mosso
Time 0:00 0:32 1:12 1:50 2:30 2:56 3:24 3:49
Reh. # [2] [4] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]
Choral Chor.
Vocal narr. Tristan narr. Kaherdin Tristan
(TTB) (SAA) (TTB) (TBB)
22, 23 6 21 6 8 22, 23 21 8 (11)
aab aa' abb aab a aab
P
7
(C)
(bass)
G# A F# D
Bass/ (pedal tremolo) (trem.) ROW
Tonality
G# F D F# D#m D
Il manda Kaherdin… Tristan rassemble… Je perds… Kaherdin voit… Nulle détresse…
Iseut, sa femme… Beau doux ami… Ah! si je savais… Beau compagnon…
Allegro deciso
q = 112
Text
Musical
Materials
Row
4:15
[12]

Lento
sempre animando
Lento
q = 60
Poco meno lento q = 69
Molto lento
Molto tranquillo
4:49 5:53 6:18 7:33 8:11 8:33 8:51 9:33 10:06
[14] [16] [17] [19] [20] [21] [22] [24] [25]
Chor.
Tristan narr. Tristan
(SAA/
TBB)
(11) 13 1 11 (3) 22, 23 9 2, (3) 21
aab
P
0
(B): love theme P
0
(C) (frag.)
(solo violin) (melody)
D
(trem.)
D D Bb G E Db A
qu'il lui souvienne du breuvage… Derrière la paroi… Ami, je n'ai plus…
Ami, soyez remercié… Qu'il lui souvienne Hâtez vous…
de serment... Vous emmènerez…
Con moto agitato
q = 116

210
Act III, scene 4
Con moto
q = 92
Più tranquillo
Agitato
Con moto agitato
h = 84
sempre
h = 84
sempre string.
sempre più agitato
Andante con moto
ed ancora agitato
q = 84
Time 0:00 0:27 0:52 1:13 1:48 2:27 2:41 3:08 3:25 4:01 4:21 4:39 5:01
Reh. # [1] [2] [3] [6] [10] [11] [13] [14] [17] [19] [21] [23]
Choral Choral
Vocal narr. Iseut narr.*
(unis.)
21 9 23, 13 23, 13 24 24 1
G (V→ I ?)
Bass/ (ostin.)
Tonality
…F# B
Ecoutez… Un vent d'orage… Hélas! chétive! Ma mort… Je vais mourir… pour moi, ami…
Déjà Iseut… les vagues profondes… Ami, si je ne viens… Je vois… Peut-être vous ne saurez…
Ah! Peut-être après moi…
Musical
Materials
Row
Text

sempre ancora
agitato
Tranquillo
q = 60
(q = 60)
5:37 6:04 7:34
[25] [26] [29]
Choral Alto solo
narr.* narr.
(unis.)
1
D
pedal…
B
A la troisième nuit…
Ainsi gémit…
Hélas! presque aussitôt…

211
Act III, scene 5
Lento
q = 60
Più mosso ed
affrettando
Con moto
q = 104
senza riten.
Più lento
q = 84
Più lento
q = 60
Molto lento
Meno lento
Andante funebre
q = 76
Time 0:00 0:45 1:14 1:57 2:32 3:09 3:25 4:02 4:50 5:24 5:58
Reh. # [1] [2] [3] [4] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11]
Choral narr. Tristan & I.B.M. Tristan Choral
Vocal unis. → w/ Chor. narr. w/ Chor. narr. narr.
2 pt. (SS) "organum" ("organum")
1, (20)
21a 21a 23 21a 21a 25 6 26 25
a b a
P
0
(C) P
5
(C) P
1
(C) (frag.) P
1
(C) P
2
(C)
(solo viola) (vla…) (viola) (bass) (melody)
(V → I ?)
Bass/ F
Tonality pedal
Db Bb… Eb
Tristan était trop faible… Dolent et las… Elle vint vers… Or dites-moi… Tristan se tourna… A la quatrième fois…
et depuis… Enfin le vent… Tristan tressaille… Iseut, amie!... Alors par la maison…
Musical
Materials
Row
Text
P
4
(C) P
9
(C)
(bass) (mel.)

Act III, scene 5
Lento
q = 60
Più mosso ed
affrettando
Con moto
q = 104
senza riten.
Più lento
q = 84
Più lento
q = 60
Molto lento
Meno lento
Andante funebre
q = 76
Time 0:00 0:45 1:14 1:57 2:32 3:09 3:25 4:02 4:50 5:24 5:58
Reh. # [1] [2] [3] [4] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11]
Choral narr. Tristan & I.B.M. Tristan Choral
Vocal unis. → w/ Chor. narr. w/ Chor. narr. narr.
2 pt. (SS) "organum" ("organum")
1, (20)
21a 21a 23 21a 21a 25 6 26 25
a b a
P
0
(C) P
5
(C) P
1
(C) (frag.) P
1
(C) P
2
(C)
(solo viola) (vla…) (viola) (bass) (melody)
(V → I ?)
Bass/ F
Tonality pedal
Db Bb… Eb
Tristan était trop faible… Dolent et las… Elle vint vers… Or dites-moi… Tristan se tourna… A la quatrième fois…
et depuis… Enfin le vent… Tristan tressaille… Iseut, amie!... Alors par la maison…
Musical
Materials
Row
Text
P
4
(C) P
9
(C)
(bass) (mel.)

212
Act III, scene 6
Con moto tranquillo
q = 96
Meno mosso
q = 84
Poco più mosso
q = 92
Meno mosso
q = 80
Più largo
Time 0:00 0:31 1:01 1:29 1:59 2:25 2:53 3:19 3:44
Reh. # [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]
Choral un vieillard Chorus Sop. Chor.
Vocal narr. (Bar. Solo) "echo" solo narr.
(organum → 4 pt.) (polyphonic) narr.
26 1, 2 27 27
P
8
(A)
(distrib.)
Bass/ ← A →
Tonality pedal
Sur la mer… Dame, nous avons… Dame, nous avons… Tristan est mort! Les Bretons…
Elle entendit… Il était large… Il était large… Iseut l'entend…
Musical
Materials
Row
Text

Con moto agitato
q = 104
Meno mosso
Molto lento
q = 46
4:11 4:37 4:50 5:18 6:08 7:22
[9] [10] [11] [12] [13]
Chor.
narr. Iseut Choral narr.
23 4, 28 13 4
ac-aac
P
2
(A) P
3
(B)→P
8
(B)→P
0
(B): love theme
(melody) (solo violin)
G# F
(trem.) G# C
pedal pedal
G# F
Dame, relevez-vous… Puis elle découvrit…
Auprès de Tristan… Elle se tourna… Elle mourout…

213
Act III, scene 7
Time 0:00 0:35 1:11 1:55 2:28 2:43
Reh. # [2] [4] [6] [8]
← Choral →
Vocal narr.
(pts.) (mostly unis.)
4b 13 1 28
A'
P
8
(A) P
1
(A)
→P
9
(A) →P
2
(A) P
1
(C)
→P
10
(A) →P
3
(A)
(bass/distrib.) (bass/dist.) (melody)
Bass/ E A
Tonality pedal pedal
→G#
C
Quand le roi Marc… Au lendemain…
Il emporta… Le roi Marc
Mais, pendant la nuit… défendit…
sempre largo q = 60
Text
Musical
Materials
Allegro moderato
q = 92
Con moto
q = 104
Più mosso
q = 120
Row
28
→D#
(V → I ?)
A

Epilogue
Time 0:00 1:01 1:20
Reh. # [2] [3] [4]
Vocal Choral narr.
(2 pts., doubled 8va) (4 pts. → unison)
4 (11) 3
Bass/
Tonality
D G … D-G -C B F A D B
Seigneurs… Puissent-ils trouver…
Ils vous mandent…
Ils saluent…
Con moto
q = 96
Poco più largo
h = 48
Text
Musical
Materials
Row
0:31
214
Key to Musical Materials Indicated in Analytical Charts:

1 Melodic phrase concluding with two consecutive descending minor thirds
(cadential melodic motive)

2 Bass line concluding with two consecutive descending minor thirds
(cadential melodic motive in the bass line)

3 "Prologue cadence" (cadential chord progression)

4 Skeletal (2-voice) version of "seminal motive", consisting of a perfect fourth
moving outward by half steps to a perfect fifth or vice versa (i.e., retrograde)

4a "Triple leading tone" progression (harmonic progression)

4b "Quand le temps" chord sequence (harmonic progression; built from "triple
leading tone" progression)

5 "Brew" motive (repeating melodic, harmonic, and textural gesture)

6 "Gliding" counterpoint (compositional device)

7 "Ceux qui" motive (melodic motive)

8 Concluding or penultimate chord, consisting of a minor triad over a bass note one
semitone below its root (cadential harmonic sonority)

9 "Boat" music (accompaniment figure)

10 "La nef" chord progression (harmonic progression)

11 Contrary motion oscillating figure (compositional device)

12 "Wagner" motive (melodic motive reminiscent of the opening of Wagner's
Tristan und Isolde)

13 Parallel chord stream (compositional device)

14 "Quickening" music (accompaniment figure)

215
15 "Act 2" chord, consisting of a major-seventh chord in first inversion
(harmonic sonority)

15a "Act 2, scene 1" chord sequence
(harmonic progression, begins with "Act 2" chord)

15b "Act 2, scene 3" chord sequence
(harmonic progression, begins with "Act 2" chord)

16 "Forest" music (accompaniment figure)

17 "Discovery" music (melodic, harmonic, and textural idea)

18 "Shimmering" (accompaniment figure)

19 "Snap" rhythm leading to sustained chord (musical gesture)

20 "Iseut's doubt" (melodic and harmonic idea)

21 "Act 3, scene 1" (musical gesture)

21a Modified version of 21 with reduced intervals (musical gesture)

22 Sustained (pedal) tremolo on a single note

23 "Act 3" chord sequence (harmonic progression; normally consists of modular
components a, b, and c)

24 "Iseut's anxiety" (melodic motive)

25 "Tristan's last words" (melodic and harmonic gesture)

26 "Funeral march" (melodic ostinato gesture)

27 "Tristan est mort" motive (melodic, harmonic, and textural gesture)
28
b
VI —
b
VII — I chord sequence (harmonic progression)

216
Appendix B: Errata identified in the published full score of Le Vin Herbé
(UE11314, subsequently reissued as UE34130)

In the course of this study, dozens of apparent typographical errors were
discovered in the published full score of the work. Some of these are fairly trivial, while
others are of potentially much greater musical significance. In the following list, the
location of each error is given by page, system, and measure number (e.g., 21.2.5 refers
to page 21, system 2, measure 5). Unless otherwise indicated, the corrections provided
are consistent with the piano-vocal score.

Location Description

1.1.7 The extraneous quarter rest printed in the vocal parts should be omitted.

4.3.5-7 In the vocal solo (La Mère d'Iseut), the tie is misplaced.

5.3.5 In the vocal solo (La Mère d'Iseut), the second note should be E-natural.

11.1.1 The second cello's first note should be D3, not B2.

14.1.3 In the soprano and alto parts, the last half note is missing a dot.

14.1.3 In the tenor part, the divisi is not indicated; it should be 1.2. on the upper
line and 3. on the lower line.

19.2.2 In the first viola part, the printed F should be an F#. (This is consistent
with the row form, and is further indicated by the E# that follows.)

23.2.2 In the vocal solo part (B5), the last note should be an eighth note.

23.2.8 In the vocal solo part (B5), on beat 2, either the tie should be omitted or
"de_et" should be elided. (This ambiguity is mirrored in both the piano-
vocal score and the autograph.)

25.1.2 Branghien's part is missing a quarter rest after the half note.

26.1 Staves 2 & 3 should be labeled "T 1.3" & "B 4.5.6", respectively.

26.1.4 On the downbeat, a triplet bracket is missing from the first violin, first
viola, and first cello lines.

26.2.1 On the downbeat, a triplet bracket is missing from the first violin, first
viola, and first cello lines.
217

28.1.3 In the second violin part, on beat 2, the score shows E-natural. The piano-
vocal score has E-flat, which is consistent with previous analogous
iterations of this pattern (the "triple leading tone" progression). The C-
natural held over to beat 2 in the previous measure could indicate a
deviation from the pattern, but most likely this should be E-flat.

33.1.2 In both cello parts, the quarter note on beat 3 should be dotted.

34.1.3 In the first viola part on beat 4, the lower note should remain on E# (tied).

37.2.4 A triplet bracket is missing from the first three notes of all vocal lines.

41.1.3 In the L.H. of the piano, the 6
th
eighth note should be C, to match the R.H.

42.2.5 In all vocal parts, an eighth rest is missing from the second half of beat 2.

42.2.5 The alto note should be C#.

49.2.2 The upper staff of the piano part is missing a change to bass clef at the
double bar.

53.2.5 In the vocal bass part, both notes should be D-flat to match the harmony.

54.1.1 In Branghien's solo line, the syllable "-ter" should be added to the German
underlay on the downbeat.

58.2.1 In Tristan's solo line, all notes should be F-naturals.

65.2.5 In the choral parts, "Corvenal" should read "Gorvenal".

66.1.1-3 All voices should sing in octaves here. (The tenor part appears to be
written as if for bass clef, while the Bar/B part is missing.)

67.1.1 The tenuto should be applied to the second syllable of guidé rather than
the first.

67.1.1 The penultimate note of the vocal solo should probably be D-natural, not
D# (although no accidental is given in the piano-vocal score either).

69.1.1 In the vocal solo part (B5), the third triplet in beat 2 should be tied over to
beat 3, in both the French ("pas") and German ("-rühr-") versions.

218
78.1.2 In the upper staff of the piano part, on the downbeat, the bottom note of
the chord should be G#, not G-natural.

78.2.1 In the upper staff of the piano part, on beat 3, the lowest sharp is
misplaced; the bottom notes of the chord should be E and F#.

78.2.2 In the upper staff of the piano part, on beat 1, the chord should contain C#
rather than C-natural.

78.2.2 In the vocal solo (Tristan) the first note is missing a dot.

78.2.5 In the upper staff of the piano part, on beat 2, the chord should contain C
and D# instead of C# and D.

79.1.4 In the upper staff of the piano part, on beat 3, the top note should be A#.

83.1.2 In the lower staff of the piano part, the bottom note should be B1, not G1.

83.2.4 On beat 4, the piano part is missing a quarter rest.

85.2.2 In the lower staff of the piano part, on beat 1, a sharp is misplaced. The
chord should consist of the notes G#-C#-E.

91.1.2 In the upper staff of the piano part, the F-natural in the second chord
should probably be an F#. (This is consistent with the subsequent pattern,
as well as the piano-vocal score, and avoids an unlikely cross-relation.)

91.2.2 In the piano part on the downbeat, the R.H. F should be F#, and both L.H.
notes should be G#.

92.1.1 In the vocal solo (Tristan) the first note is missing a dot.

98.2.1 The upper staff of the piano part should be in bass clef, not treble clef.

117.1.1-2 In the vocal solo (A5), there should be a tie across the barline (French text
only).

117.1.2 In the German text, "nocht" should read "noch".

122.1 The third staff should be labeled "B", not "A".

125.1.5 In the vocal solo (Kaherdin) a tie is missing between the 3
rd
and 4
th
notes
(French version only).

219
141.1.1 In the string bass part, an eighth rest is missing after the first eighth note.

151.2.1 Iseut should have a B-flat, not a B.

152.1.3 Iseut should have a quarter-note G on beat 4.

159-161 Martin may have intended (or later decided) that this entire narrative
passage should be sung as a solo (A4), as it is on the 1961 Westminster
recording.

160.2.4-5 All vocal parts should have a dotted tie across the barline (for "hatte"—
German version only).

166.2.10 In the vocal solo (Tristan), an eighth note is missing after the first note
(French version only).

174.1.1 In the vocal solo (B4) the second note ("le") should be an eighth note.

176.2.1 The soprano part is missing a quarter rest on the downbeat.

177.1.1 The A5/6 line is missing a quarter rest on beat 3.

178.2.4 The underlay is missing from the alto and bass vocal lines: it should say
"Qui est elle?" / "Wer ist sie?" (This line is also missing from the text in
the booklet accompanying the 2007 Harmonia Mundi recording.)

183.1.5 In the alto part, the two last notes should be D# and F# (sharps are
missing).

188.2.2 In the tenor/bass line, both pitches should be A.

190.2.1 The upper staff of the piano part should have a bass clef, until the treble
clef that is indicated two measures later.

192.2.2 In all voice parts, the first half note is missing a dot.

Abstract (if available)

Abstract Frank Martin's secular chamber oratorio 'Le Vin Herbé' (1938-1941), originally scored for twelve singers and eight instruments, represents a watershed moment in the development of one of the most prolific and unique compositional voices of the twentieth century. The work is important on two counts: first, because it represents the first ripe fruits of the peculiar synthesis of influences that characterizes virtually all of Martin's mature compositional output

Linked assets

University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

Conceptually similar

PDF

The romantic loner: a conductor’s guide to the choral-orchestral works of Sir William Walton

PDF

Synagogue choral music of nineteenth-century Vienna, Paris, and Berlin: its repertoire and history

PDF

A cultural history of Georg Friedrich Daumer's Polydora and Johannes Brahms's Liebeslieder waltzes, op. 52

PDF

Music of reformed worship: a guide and resource for organists, choirs, and congregations

PDF

Three periods in Frank Martin's compositional evolution as exemplified in Messe pour double choeur, In Terra Pax and Requiem

PDF

A survey of the unaccompanied choral music of Wolfram Buchenberg

PDF

A companion guide to Nick Strimple’s Choral Music in the Nineteenth Century: a research and repertoire guide for nineteenth century small form choral works for mixed voices

PDF

Music in worship in the Churches of Christ and choral music performance in Church of Christ affiliated colleges and universities

PDF

An analysis of two choral compositions with strings by Tarik O'Regan

PDF

Refined gold from along the Royal Highway: musical training at the California Missions as a model for present-day pedagogy

PDF

Charles C. Hirt at the University of Southern California: significant contributions and an enduring legacy

PDF

Theology as a basis for golden section analysis: a model of construction for Johann Sebastian Bach's St. John Passion

PDF

Surmounting oppression in the choral music of Petr Eben: an analysis of the Missa adventus et quadragesimae

PDF

The sacred choral works of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor

PDF

Howard Swan, Charles Hirt, and Roger Wagner: their influences and the building of choral culture in southern California

PDF

Fortuna desperata: a study of symbolism

PDF

The influence of African-American harmonizing on the 'American' choral works of Frederick Delius

PDF

David Ward-Steinman and his oratorio The Song of Moses: an appreciation and analysis

PDF

A conductor’s guide to select choral works composed by Hyo-Won Woo between 2012 and 2018

PDF

The motets of Georg Philipp Telemann: a study of their sources, musical style, and performance practice

Asset Metadata

Creator Roihl, Daniel Kevin (author)

Core Title Frank Martin's Le vin herbé: a critical analysis and guide to performance

School Thornton School of Music

Degree Doctor of Musical Arts

Degree Program Choral Music

Publication Date 10/31/2014

Defense Date 10/24/2014

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag chamber oratorio,Frank Martin,Le vin herbé,OAI-PMH Harvest

Format application/pdf (imt)

Language English

Contributor Electronically uploaded by the author (provenance)

Advisor Strimple, Nick L. (committee chair), Scheibe, Jo-Michael (committee member), Simms, Bryan R. (committee member)

Creator Email droihl@gmail.com,roihl@usc.edu

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c3-513379

Unique identifier UC11298564

Identifier etd-RoihlDanie-3052.pdf (filename),usctheses-c3-513379 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier etd-RoihlDanie-3052.pdf

Dmrecord 513379

Document Type Dissertation

Format application/pdf (imt)

Rights Roihl, Daniel Kevin

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the a...

Repository Name University of Southern California Digital Library

Repository Location USC Digital Library, University of Southern California, University Park Campus MC 2810, 3434 South Grand Avenue, 2nd Floor, Los Angeles, California 90089-2810, USA