Love triangles are often the core of opera plots, and Richard Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier (1909–1910) is certainly no exception. Strauss’ comedic take on the French novel Les amours du chevalier de Faublas is rich with his signature full-bodied orchestral sound, thematic symbolism, and perfectly constructed harmonies. While the three-act opera clocks in at over three hours, Der Rosenkavalier Suite (1944-45) is a perfectly portioned twenty-five minute highlight reel of Strauss’ masterful opera. 

Strauss began Der Rosenkavalier in 1909, having been eager to set Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s libretto to music after the pair garnered success with Elektra earlier that year. After a well-received premiere of Der Rosenkavalier—although Strauss’ treatment of waltz was considered “quite unsettling” to some purists—the comedic drama has become a masterwork, staged regularly in opera houses around the world. The 1945 Der Rosenkavalier Suite is a popular selection for concert programming, as it employs some of Strauss’ most romantic orchestral writing. 

While the musical treatment and staging of the waltzes was less traditional than some would have liked, the waltz portions are some of the most important moments of the opera and make for fabulous orchestral performance. Naturally, Strauss excerpted the waltz sequences for concert use. Later, reluctantly, the composer allowed his music to be spliced further for a 1925 silent movie adaptation of Der Rosenkavalier, directed by Robert Wiene. Strauss didn’t believe a silent adaptation of Der Rosenkavalier would be as alluring as the staged production, but he trusted Wiene—the director’s silent horror film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari had been a smash success in Germany, after all—and selected portions for cinematic use. Strauss’ instincts proved correct, though, and Der Rosenkavalier did not sparkle onscreen the same way it did onstage. While there were not ravenous fans at the cinema and royalties did not flow freely, the $10,000 contract fee (just over $185,000 in 2026) eased the composer’s regret. 

Just over a decade later, in the throes of World War II, Richard Strauss’ popularity as a composer did not wane, but his financial stability did. With few opera houses left standing and fewer orchestras performing, royalty payments and concert fees were sparse. To make matters worse, the German composer’s bank accounts were frozen and assets seized by the Allied Forces. Although he was composing and performing throughout WWII, it became apparent that Strauss would have to leave Germany in an attempt to support his family financially. Strauss sanctioned the publication of a new Der Rosenkavalier Suite through publisher Boosey & Hawkes at least in part for royalty income. Credit for the arrangement of the suite is often attributed to the New York Philharmonic’s conductor Artur Rodzinski, though rumors circulate that Strauss had previously prepared a full-opera score with cuts and reorderings for Eugene Ormandy, Maestro of the Philadelphia Orchestra, to use as a concert suite. Perhaps Rodzinski borrowed Ormandy’s score (unlikely), or maybe Strauss prepared a second copy—the musical world may never know the true origins of the Der Rosenkavalier Suite, but we can be thankful for it nonetheless. Only Strauss’ name appears in the Boosey & Hawkes orchestral materials.  

With a flash of prurient horns, Der Rosenkavalier Suite bursts forth: a passionate romp between the Marschallin and Octavian is illustrated with Strauss’ jubilant theme. Harps and celeste pepper the work with their mysterious arpeggios, and soon the orchestra swoons and sighs through a phenomenally tender oboe solo. Illustrated here is Octavian’s true love (at first sight) for Sophie, though she is to be wed and Octavian is wrapped up in a secret affair with the Marschallin. This portion of the suite is Strauss’ most magnificently supple writing; yearning wind solos are supported by shimmery strings which all come together to express, perfectly, the pain of falling in love with someone you cannot have. In the blink of an eye, the young love is discovered by policing brass, and a precocious Straussian waltz dances across the orchestra, offering comedic relief. Oom-pas abound, and the jaunty waltz section transforms again. The bittersweet melody led by the violins represents the Marschallin realizing Octavian’s heart belongs to Sophie, and that she must give him up. A massive crescendo—signature Strauss—floods the orchestra as Octavian realizes his heart belongs, truly and only, to Sophie.

A final, impish, waltz overtakes the orchestra after being heralded in by a sneaky snare roll. The Der Rosenkavalier Suite ends with a joyful curtain call filled with the pomp and excitement only a German waltz can provide.