Of all the bete, clumsy, blundering, boggling, baboon-headed stuff I ever saw on a human stage that thing last night -- as far as the story and acting went and of all the affected, sapless, soulless, beginningless, endless, topless, bottomless, topsiturviest, tuneless, scrannel-pipiest, tongs and boniest doggrel of sounds I ever endured the deadliness of, that eternity of nothing was the deadliest as far as its sound went. I never was so relieved, so far as I can remember, in my life by the stopping of any sound, not excepting railroad whistles as I was by the cessation of the cobbler's bellowing; even the serenadcr's caricatured twangle was a rest after. As for the great 'Lied' I never made out where it began or where it ended except by the fellow's coming off the horse block.It is my least favorite of the mature Wagner operas; still I like Meistersinger more than Ruskin did. Even so, how I wish I'd written that.
Lisa Hirsch's Classical Music Blog.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.
Berce mollement sur ton sein sublime
Ô puissante mer, l’enfant de Dindyme!
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Thursday, March 05, 2015
Ruskin on Meistersinger
Wow:
"It is my least favorite of the mature Wagner operas"
ReplyDeleteThank you. I feel the same way.
The weakest segment musically in all Wagner for me is the first hour or so in Act 3 -- right after the moving prelude until the start of the great quintet "Selig, wie die Sonne"
It is during this long stretch that I lose the will to live.