The Origin and Development of Eurythmy 1912–1918
GA 277a — 1 January 1914, Leipzig
Notes on the Development of Eurythmy
Erna van Deventer, from: “Memories”
When Rudolf Steiner gave his series of lectures on Christ and the Spiritual World in Leipzig at the end of December 1913, we had prepared a eurythmy performance. In the performance, we wanted to show how different nuances of consonants and vowels can be found in many languages, but the twelve consonants and seven vowels remain the same. It was roughly the same program that we later repeated in Berlin. Only Rudolf Steiner had added the Indian mantra and a piece from the Odyssey [for Berlin].
Christian Morgenstern was also present at this cycle, seeing eurythmy for the first time. He was already seriously ill and had to attend the lectures in a reclining chair. On one of these evenings [December 31, 1913], after the eurythmy, Rudolf Steiner spoke about Christian Morgenstern's poems and emphasized that they were particularly suitable for eurythmy because real “supersensible imaginations” had flowed into earthly words. These poems were then recited by Dr. Steiner. Afterwards, Christian Morgenstern asked Dr. Steiner if I could show him the basic elements, the sounds.
The next morning [January 1, 1914], Dr. Steiner, Dr. Steiner's wife, and I went up to Christian Morgenstern's room at the Hotel de Pologne. There he lay, visibly terminally ill, emaciated and suffering on a sickbed. But in his face shone two blue eyes, so crystal clear, so transparent, as I have never seen again. And now I began with the alphabet, presenting different possibilities for each sound. And Christian Morgenstern listened and watched with such grateful eyes that I felt as if I had been given a gift. After the alphabet, he asked if I could eurythmize one of his poems. The poem “Abendläuten” (Evening Bells) came to mind. The poem ends with the lines: “Fate's bell, ringing above our heads, ringing, ringing...” Here I got stuck, because it was impossible for me to form a meaningful äu four times in a row. But Rudolf Steiner came out of the corner where he was sitting, smiling, and said: "But Erna, why don't you make a rising ä# with your eyelids? That would make for a particularly effective ending! You see, first you press your hands into your forearms, then your forearms into your upper arms, then your upper arms into your shoulders, and as a final movement—sink your eyelids deep into your closing eyes, press your eyelids into your eyes, and you will feel the fading of (rings, rings, rings)." - Between the au movements, the e of “rings” was hinted at each time. Christian Morgenstern watched the doctor's lesson with deep amazement. Afterwards, he wanted me to show him the “Hallelujah.” Christian Morgenstern was so moved by these movements that he promised to write me a poem in which the word “Hallelujah” would appear seven times, each time at the end of a verse. He also said he was working on a poem that expressed “Evoe.” I then showed him this Greek greeting eurythmically: “We seek each other and have found each other.” Three months later, on March 31, 1914, he passed away. He could no longer find the strength to write the two poems.
Erna van Deventer, from: “An Encounter Between Christian Morgenstern and Eurythmy”
The next morning, Rudolf Steiner called me and told me that Christian Morgenstern had asked if I would show him eurythmy, its basic elements, and perform some poems eurythmically; but it would have to be done in the poet's room, as he did not have the strength to come downstairs twice a day. So it happened that Dr. Steiner, Dr. Steiner, and I went up to Christian Morgenstern's little room.
But don't think of a “room”; it was a small chamber where there was just enough space for a camp bed, on which Christian Morgenstern was lying. Dr. Steiner sat at the foot of the bed, Dr. Steiner stood by the window, and I stood between them, with just enough room for two or three steps. Christian Morgenstern greeted me from his narrow camp bed. He could hardly speak, but through his eyes one could understand his desire to get to know eurythmy in practice.
So I began with the whole alphabet, and Dr. Steiner explained that this, flowing from one sound to another, made visible the life and weaving of the human etheric body. Then he whispered and asked if I could eurythmize one of his own poems, and I chose “In deine langen Wellen, tiefe Glocke, leg' ich die Stimme meiner Traurigkeit” (In your long waves, deep bell, I lay the voice of my sadness). The poem ends with “verschwistert dem Gesang der Schicksalsglocke, die zu unsern Häupten läutet, läutet, läuter” (sistered to the song of the bell of fate, which rings, rings, purifies above our heads).
And now one could experience how intensely the poet Christian Morgenstern lived with the essence of language. He had just given him movements that were so new to him, and now I eurythmized the fourfold repetition of the double vowel “Ä-u” = Äu in front of him. This sound had to be experienced as “joining the limbs” or also as “touching the earth again after a jump.” And he asked, “Can this strange movement of joining the arms and hands be used in such a lyrical poem?” In saying this, he expressed what had often caused us eurythmists [...] headaches. But Dr. Steiner asked me if I wanted to eurythmize the poem in my own way. He would intervene if I couldn't continue. And so it happened.
Evening Bells In your long waves,
deep bell
I lay the soft voice
of my sadness;
in your swinging
it gently
dissolves,
now united
with the eternal song
of the bell of life,
bell of destiny,
which rings above our heads,
rings, rings.
I eurythmized until “bell of destiny, which rings above our heads, rings, rings.” Suddenly Dr. Steiner called out, “Stop!” And he said, “Mr. Morgenstern, now look how Miss Wolfram can metamorphose the äu movement!” To me he said, "Now do the first ä# with your shoulders, the second with your shoulders and elbows, the third with your shoulders, elbows, and wrists. And let the fourth äu fade away slowly by letting your arms slide down passively, while the äu itself is produced only by slowly closing your eyelids, so that your eyes close slowly at the end. In this last movement, you experience the fading of the bell of fate." — Then he asked, “Mr. Morgenstern, doesn't that make sense?”
We, Dr. Steiner, Morgenstern, and I, were amazed, astonished. We had an example of how strongly one can modify and metamorphose in artistic eurythmy without violating the laws of sound.
After this, Christian Morgenstern asked if I would eurythmize the word “Hallelujah,” which he had seen the day before. I did so, and he was so deeply moved that he said: "And now I will write a poem for you in which ‘Hallelujah’ appears at the end of every stanza. I will send it to you in the spring, when I am feeling a little better, and at the first opportunity, you can demonstrate it for me."