MOONLIGHT, LINDEN BLOSSOM AND MIDSUMMER MADNESS

I always think of Die Meistersinger, all five hours of it, as of some great medieval songbook with sacred and secular melodies following each other page on page, for hundred and hundreds of pages. As in those storybook movies I saw in my childhood some unseen hand pulls the immense score open at the first note of the overture, and then the pages turn of themselves, and the melodies pour forth in wondrous profusion, and the irresistible onward movement through the pages keeps me breathless before the great work, through all its designs and devices, its crotchets and hemidemisemiquavers, its illuminations, its recapitulations, its shining images, the soliloquies and discourses of its endearingly human characters, the pain and laughter, and wisdom of it – till the last page echoes the first. - Wagner And The Wonder Of Art - M.Owen Lee

Putting aside any reservations one might understandably have about Richard Wagner the man, I find it hard to conceive of anyone with a beating heart that wouldn't appreciate the humanity of his summer festival opera 'Die Meistersinger Von Nurnberg' once properly acquainted with the piece. And although the final Hans Sachs monologue (included at his wife Cosima's insistence) is always problematic when seen as foreshadowing the atrocities of 20th Century Germany, the rest of the work is close to perfection and demonstrates the full spectrum of human emotion in the guise of poet cobbler Hans Sachs, the young knight Walther, Eva, Beckmesser and all the other many idiosyncratic and cranky Meistersingers themselves.

I remember the first time I rather ambitiously borrowed a Decca 1976 recording at the age of 15 from a certain Mr. Stringer and had no real idea of what the opera was about and yet somehow I instantly recognised (as I'm sure many other first time listeners do) the warm and cosy atmosphere of the piece that felt all too familar, as if I had perhaps once lived in those medieval streets of 16th Century Nuremberg long ago crafting my own prize song under elder trees and in a cobbler's workshop.

So, what is it all about? Some of you may already know the story but for those that don't I will endeavor to summarise it as efficiently as possible simply by saying that it is essentially the story of a young man (Walther) who has a gift for song and who hopes to win the affection of a girl (Eva) as well as the respect of a historic musical guild of master singers most notably the poet/cobbler Hans Sachs.

Now as soon as Spring has turned to summer I find myself playing Meistersinger as its endless fountains of melodies pour endlessly into my ear like some musical elixir restoring my faith in life and art. I have many memories of sitting in numerous opera houses wondering how on earth it was possible to concentrate on a German opera for five hours and then miraculously finding myself at the end of Act 3 without even knowing quite how I got there.

There is something magical about how a great work of art can take you out of your conception of time and transport you into a realm where you forget about the conventional seconds, minutes, and hours of a conventional day-to-day rhythm cycle.

And if I were to pinpoint the emotional centerpiece of the opera then it may surprise those familiar with the work to learn that it is in Act 2 and not Act 3 that I find the essence of its sensibility fully revealed.

Act II is all elder and linden blossoms,1 moonlight, and midsummer madness, set in a cobbled street that winds between the slope-roofed houses of old Nurem- berg.2 It is growing dark, and the apprentices are putting up the shutters all through the city. And there’s a little malice in their song: on St John’s eve, the summer sol- stice, everyone goes a little mad. Especially when it comes to love: the old man woos the young girl, the young boy woos the old maid. It seems as if all the town is aware that young David is courting old Magdalene and, conversely, that old Sachs has a romantic interest in young Eva. And for the first time, we think: Sachs is a widower and, as the mastersinger of them all, he could easily win the contest. Would Eva have him if he won? Is he interested in her romantically? The plot thickens in Act II.

Having learned from experience that it is better not to over-explain a passion such as opera to those less enthusiastic I will simply leave you with the Act 2 scene in question to enjoy. Or not! ^^

Happy St John's Eve!

Digital Renegade

23rd June 2023