In January 1927, some ten years into his tenure, Straube offered a would-be visitor a candid window into his daily routine. “From 9:00 to 1:00, meeting of the committee for state examinations of the Leipzig Conservatory,” began the intonation of his Saturday obligations. Then: “1:30, Motette; 2:30–3:30, rehearsal with the sopranos, then sleep; 5:00–6:00, rehearsal with the altos; 6:00–7:30, rehearsal with the entire choir; 8:00–10:00, Conservatory teaching. So it goes day in and day out.” At least until Easter “I am on the treadmill of my three offices and actually never free. It may be wrong, but I am not in control of my life and take it as it comes. The more I have to work, the better, because then no bleak thoughts [keine trüben Gedanken] arise.” At fifty-four, Straube felt he was riding a wave not of his own making. The punishing routine rattled off here amounted to a bulwark against a tide of trübe Gedanken, probably a clinical depression now some three years after Elisabet's death. His propensity for sustained hard work was itself nothing new, but his attitude toward it had taken a dark turn by the middle of the decade, stained by personal loss and accumulated bitterness. Each New Year and birthday likely prompted reflection. Almost exactly two years earlier, he had told Raasted that “the only anesthetic” for Elisabet's loss “is work, the more of it and the more desolate, the better… . Thank God that someday this life too will pass.” This talking point would surface repeatedly now, betraying a Weltschmerz that would gain the upper hand in Straube's psyche by the 1940s.

And work he did. Over the second half of the 1920s, as the Republic appeared to stabilize under Hindenburg, and as a newly constituted Nazi party began to incubate on the margins, Straube embraced a bewildering counterpoint of demanding, highly visible projects that would further his status and erode his health, all framed as deeply personal strategies to deflect trübe Gedanken. First, there was the German Handel Festival of June 6–8, 1925, in Leipzig, mounted under his initiative, reflecting a national (and nationalist) interest arising in tandem with Friedrich Chrysander and the Händel-Gesellschaft's edition completed in 1902.