THE OPERA OF GUILLERMO FRICK
AND THE ARAUCANIAN NATIONAL ANTHEM
By Dan
Morrison
Guillermo (Wilhelm) Frick's
1864 work, Himno a Antonio Orelie I, Rei de Araucania i Patagonia, is
identified by many as the national anthem of the Kingdom of Araucania and
Patagonia. Nothing, however, could be farther from the truth. The Himno is, in
fact, a burlesque in which Frick lampoons and ridicules Orelie-Antoine and the
Mapuche Indians. Calling the Himno the national anthem of Araucania is
like calling Yankee Doodle, a song of derision sung by British troops
during the American revolution, the national anthem of the United States.
Guillermo Frick
Frick was born in Berlin on July 15, 1815. His father worked for the Royal
Court of Justice and his mother was a member of the Prussian aristocracy. With
the intention of following his father in the legal profession, Frick took a
Juris Doctorate degree from the University of Bonn in 1834.
Shortly after taking his degree, Frick's parents died and he gave up his
career in law to re-enter the university to study physics, chemistry and
engineering. While at the university, he also mastered English and Spanish, in
preparation for his departure to the New World in September 1839.
In 1840, he arrived in Valparaiso with the intention of finding work in the
mines. Finally, in 1842, he settled in Valdivia, where he was employed as the
city engineer and was responsible for many public works in that growing city.
Frick was both a polymath and a man of action. While in Valdivia, he
organized a musical society. He conducted and published geological and
agricultural research. In 1894, he published his research on airplane designs.
He invented bombs to extinguish fires and foot pontoons for people to cross
rivers. And, in addition to all these things, he found time to compose music,
including the Himno.
Existing Copies of the Himno
I have had the opportunity to closely examine two sets of photocopies of two
examples of an edition of the Himno published around 1900. One of these sets of
photocopies was provided to me by Prince Philippe d'Araucanie and the other by
a music librarian at the Universidad Austral de Chile in Valdivia. Markings on
the photocopies indicate that the photocopies are of two distinct originals.
Each set of photocopies consists of seven pages. The first page simply bears
the words "Himno a Orelie" in an elaborate font. The second page is a
"Vorbemerkung," or "Prologue," written in German, which I
translate below. Page three is a reproduction of what seems to be the original
cover page of the sheet music -- published in 1864. It bears a cartoonish
portrait of Orelie-Antoine in profile and the words:
Himno
a
Antonio Orelie I,
Rei de Araucania I
Patagonia
Compuesto por
Guillermo Frick.
Valdivia
1864.
Below that is written, in Spanish, "Orelie is seated at the foot of a
canelo tree on an improvised throne of guanaco skins. When the curtains rise,
some Indians hurry to form a semicircle around the throne." Below that
text are nine measure of music. Pages three through seven are the music.
So what are these seven pages? Apparently, they are a section of a
multi-volume compilation of music called Musica Valdiviana published by Frick
around 1900. We can deduce the date of publication from the prologue Frick
writes for the Himno, in which he refers to the publication of the work - which
took place in 1864 - as having happened "36 years ago." And we learn
of the Musica Valdiviana from Fernando Guarda Geywitz, in his 1953 work,
Historia de Valdivia 1552-1952. Guarda writes: "We are familiar with the
volumes of his [Frick's] Musica Valdiviana in which in interesting prologues he
tells the experiences of his adventurous life. . ."
Unfortunately, I have neither found any reference besides Guarda's to the
Musica Valdiviana, nor have I found of a copy of the work in any library. It
should also be noted that a very aggressive search of music libraries
world-wide has yielded only two copies of the Himno, and both of them are later
reprints of the work. An example of the 1864 sheet music edition would
certainly be a rare and interesting item. The Himno: Opera, Anthem or
What?
So, just what is the Himno, if not a national anthem? It looks like a single
work from an opera or a musical comedy. Frick offers stage directions for
dancing. The lyrics are in Mapudungun. And the music is scored for piano,
violins and an undetermined number of voices.
While it appears that the Himno is just one part of a musical comedy, the
other parts are nowhere to be found. Frick himself does not refer to an opera
in his prologue, but he does call the Himno a "scene." Guarda
writes: "Frick organized and mounted a grand comic opera in which he
satirized and ridiculed Prince Orelie-Antoine I, King of Araucania, whose
colorful activities caused a sensation at the time and whose sudden return to
France caused the rehearsals to be suspended in deference to the nation that,
although unwittingly, seemed to support the foreign pretender's
ambitions."
It is possible that Frick wrote - or intended to write -- a full opera about
Orelie-Antoine and that only the Himno was actually published, the remainder
either never being finished, or, if finished, lost forever.
In his Prologue, Frick writes, "Before the dance, Orelie was to give a
moving speech in Spanish. I could not find, however, a fitting text and had to
satisfy myself with the anthem or homage (whatever you want to call it)."
Clearly Frick intended the Himno to be part of a larger whole. Whether or not
that whole was simple a more elaborate scene or a full-blown opera is hard to
know.
The Himno deserves further musicological research not because the
piece is important qua music, but because of the historical situation of the
piece. First, it is written about the founder of the Kingdom of Araucania and
Patagonia, and second it is written by a very interesting Chilean immigrant.
Prologue to the Himno a Antonio Orelie I
By Guillermo Frick
Translated by Dan Morrison
It was only 36 years ago that Valdivia found itself in a terrible turmoil.
It could no longer be doubted that as the year 1864 unfolded a rebellion of
both wild and tame Indians, and 2,000 Frenchmen, under the leadership of their
King Orelie, would take place.
And, as often happens, fear gives birth to humor.
A scene, in which the Indians honor their King Indian-style, with song and
dance, must have been delightful. As dialogue was necessary for this scene, and
as I could not ask any of my acquaintances to write such a dialogue, I decided
to follow the example of my friend Dr. Aquinas Ried, and make one up myself. I
borrowed an Araucanian grammar book and dictionary (the one with the spelling
by Father Feeble), and concocted a text through my own effort.
To make sense of the composition, and just in case someone wants to stage
this scene, I provide here the text with German spelling and translations as
follows:
Mapuntsche leg konangasing (The Indians are exceedingly brave.) mapuntsche
tscheletu-ing (The Indians sing as they mount their horses.) kai tempo dangu-ing
(And sing beautifully.) kai kaementa-ing tschu-kin netschutun languem-tschen
(And live happily by stealing, robbing and murdering.)
The lines of the stomping and dancing barefoot Indians are spoken in turn
(only a few at a time), until the last three notes when they all join in.
After the men have shown off their dancing, they turn, together with the
women, toward the king and take off their hats or put their hands to their
foreheads.
A fata Orelie! (Oh great Orelie!) Tschingen mapuntsche (Lord of the
Indians.) Gutting imi langeno gagag (You are famous without equal.) Orelie nji
fla leg malyea aitia mari aifinj malauba pruaing (Orelie, to your honor fifty
pretty girls will dance the Malambo.) Melgen muelepun nelschaleftun neval
meulepen uetsclaeftun (Girls come quickly to dance around the canelo, come here
quickly to dance around the canelo.)
Tsche-uple (Where?) Falschiple (Here!) Tajepal! (There!) Furiple (Yonder!)
Untje ple rupalpunwalj ple (Throughout the whole night.) Malepunta (Come by
here.) ncul willepumla netschaleftun (Come here quickly to dance around the
canelo.) The urge to dance makes those who sing "pruaing" hop to the
beat of the music.
Before the dance, Orelie was to give a moving speech in Spanish. I could not
find, however, a fitting text and had to satisfy myself with the hymn or
musical salute (whatever you want to call it). I then concluded that our
singers, ladies as well as gentlemen, were ready to learn their lines and
appear in costume on stage. The music for piano and violin (we didn't have an
orchestra at that time) and also for the choir were already written. The
rehearsals began but the piece was never performed. On the eighth of August, I
wrote to my friend Ried,
"My Orelie has turned into a fiasco. That is to say, the concern that
Orelie would come and be upset by the silliness has caused several of the
players to explain that they would no longer be willing to perform. So we gave
it up, which was, in fact, fine with me. I am certainly far from thinking that
Prince Tounens or King Orelie is so childish as to hold this silliness against
us, especially since he would also get a laugh out of it. It did seem
frivolous, however, to make light of such a serious situation, especially since
the news had just arrived in San Jose of the deployment of French naval
battalions, which was mentioned in a telegram in the Belgian Independence on
July 14. These factors combined to make it all believable.
"The French ships will be here, coincidentally(!!) since Orelie needs
the protection of his King.
"I wish it were also coincidental (!) that an English Minister were
here. I fear their memo is too late."
In case the messages from Ried to the Chilean Intendant and Minister and to
the Argentine diplomat Sarmiento as well as those from my friend Carassco
Albano to President Mitre in Buenos Aires, would not be sufficient to free us
from our desperate situation, I repeated in all my letters since October 22,
1863 the urgent plea that Reid, who still wouldn't believe, would use his
far-reaching English contacts to make the English government aware of Orelie's
doings. In my long letter of the May 22-23, 1864, I made a last attempt.
When need becomes greater, help comes nearer.
On May 31, Reid answered:
"I have finally managed to get an English minister to allow me to give him
a memorandum in which I analyzed all the assumptions, processes and plans of
this gang. This will go to England, and, while it may do no good, it will do no
harm."
If, as I mentioned before, I expressed concern on August 8, 1864 that the
memo might have been too late, my fear was well-founded.
In my letter of May 22, about the recently arrived news, I wrote to Ried.
"Everyone in Valparaiso is busy translating a letter from an Englishman
which just arrived by steamboat. The letter indicates that Orelie is on his way
with three ships and 1,500-2000 fully armed men. Now, no one can laugh about my
fears. One finally believed me and are beginning to blame others - the
Intendant, the Government, etc. That's the way things always go." Only
much later, in October, we received a letter from Orelie, published in the Patria
of Valparaiso which made public the certainty that we had nothing to fear.
Peace returned to Valparaiso, but no effort was made to return my Orelie to
the stage.
North American Araucanian Royalist Society