Die Meistersinger – The day after
April 19, 2009 in Opera
Today at 2am I was in the kitchen eating two spongy cup cake with milk and listening Patton’s snores but also this music
Five hours listening Wagner’s music require a time to come back to the reality. Die Meistersinger is defined as a comic opera, perhaps, but in fact, it is a Wagner and that means music in capital letters.
Yesterday Bryn Terfel wasn’t at Liceu. Albert Dohmen performed Hans Sachs’s role he obtained the night greatest applause.
The staging by Claus Guth, in spite of short trousers, has not received any disapproval sign by the audience who yesterday filled the theatre.
Since 1861, when Wagner outlined this opera, until 1868 premiere, this opera was coming in and coming out from Wagner’s drawer several times
Before to attend Wagner’s opera always it is a good use knowing something about the storyline, sometimes very difficult to assimilate, but also about the context where it was created. In this case, it is easy to find Wagner himself as the artist not always accepted by his contemporary but also as the genius absolutely self-confident about it.
But also we can find the other Wagner, the radical Wagner who years after will be taken as musical banner of some ideology what a lot of people would forget.
My father never can listen his music again
Told me, months ago, a German friend who yesterday wasn’t in the theatre.
Music must be only music
Was duftet doch der Flieder
|So mild, so strong and full
is the scent of the elder tree!
It relaxes my limbs gently,
wants me to say something.
What is the good of anything I can say to you?
I’m but a poor, simple man.
If work is not to my taste,
you might, friend, rather release me;
I would do better to stretch leather
and give up all poetry.
And yet it just won’t go.
I feel it, and cannot understand it;
I cannot hold on to it,
nor yet forget it;
and if I grasp it wholly, I cannot measure it!
But then, how should I grasp
what seemed to me immeasurable?
No rule seemed to fit it,
and yet there was no fault in it.
It sounded so old, and yet was so new,
like birdsong who heard a bird singing
and, carried away by madness,
imitated its song,
would earn derision and disgrace!
placed it in his breast:
then he sang as he had to;
and as he had to, so he could:
I noticed that particularly.
The bird that sang today
had a finely-formed break;
if he made the Masters uneasy,
he certainly pleased Hans Sachs well!
im rosigen Schein,
von Blüt und Duft
geschwellt die Luft,
voll aller Wonnen,
ein Garten lud mich ein, -
dort unter einem Wunderbaum,
von Früchten reich behangen,
zu schaun in sel’gem Liebestraum,
was höchstem Lustverlangen.
Erfüllung kühn verhieß,
das schönste Weib:
Eva im Paradies.”
“Shining in the rosy light of morning,
the air heavy
with blossom and scent,
full of every
a garden invited meand,
beneath a wondrous tree there,
(auf Walther zuschreitend und ihn
|Scorn not the Masters, I bid you,
and honour their art!
What speaks high in their praise
fell richly in your favour.
Not to your ancestors, however worthy,
not to your coat-of-arms, spear, or sword,
but to the fact that you are a poet,
that a Master has admitted you -
to that you owe today your highest happiness.
So, think back to this with gratitude:
how can the art be unworthy
which embraces such prizes?
That our Masters have cared for it
rightly in their own way,
cherished it truly as they thought best,
that has kept it genuine:
if it did not remain aristocratic as of old,
when courts and princes blessed it,
in the stress of evil years
it remained German and true;
and if it flourished nowhere
but where all is stress and strain,
you see how high it remained in honour -
what more would you ask of the Masters?
Beware! Evil tricks threaten us:
if the German people and kingdom should one day decay,
under a false, foreign rule
soon no prince would understand his people;
and foreign mists with foreign vanities
they would plant in our German land;
what is German and true none would know,
if it did not live in the honour of German Masters.
Therefore I say to you:
honour your German Masters,
then you will conjure up good spirits!
And if you favour their endeavours,
even if the Holy Roman Empire
should dissolve in mist,
for us there would yet remain
holy German Art!