Eva’s Aria and Quintet from Die Meistersinger

Wagner wrote 13 operas which are parodied even by the legions of their admirers for almost everyone dying just before the final curtain comes down. But the death of heroes and villains wasn’t enough, in the last scene of seventeen hour drama “The Ring Cycle”, the whole world is flooded and the Heaven burnt down albeit to be born again. He did write one comedy if only to show that his genius was well-rounded. No one dies in Die Maestersinger von Nurnberg, although Beckmesser probably wished that he had at the end. The lovers unite against all odds, old shoemaker poet is celebrated by the populace and he in turn exhorts every one to work for the glory of Art because, after all is said and done, it is Art that brings lasting glory to a nation.

Eva and Count Walther fall in love within a few minutes of the First Act. But to win Eva Walther must conquer his opposition, particularly the town clerk Beckmesser in a song contest. So he must first learn to write poetry and then how to sing it. Hans Sachs, the shoemaker poet much respected in Nuremberg, is fond of Eva who is the daughter of his friend and neighbour, Pogner. Sachs promises to help Walther and assigns his apprentice David the job of teaching him. David himself is in love with Eva’s maid Magdalene but he can only marry her after he qualifies as a craftsman. After the turmoil of second act, there is certain despondency in the third act till towards the middle of this very long act, longer than most operas, Walther completes his poem to Sachs’ satisfaction and every one can feel hopeful. This is when Wagner presents his most wonderful music in the form of a short aria by Eva in praise of the song crafted by Walther “As blissfully as the sun of my happiness laughs, a morning full of joy blessedly awakens for me; dream of highest joys, heavenly morning glow;……” And then others join her in ones and twos “A melody tender and noble ought to succeed propitiously ……..” for a heavenly quintet with musical accompaniment unmatched in classical music.

Somerset Maugham named Die Maestersinger as the greatest of all operas and the quintet the pinnacle of musical achievement. Music is a matter of personal taste and mood; and it follows that others have their own favourites. There are days when I would rather listen to one of the duets from Die Walkure, Siegfried and Aida, Isolde’s Liebestod, last few minutes from Gotterdammerung, last verse of Das Lied von der Erde, Beethoven’s last quartet, Goldberg variations, the list is long. But if I were allowed to take just one short piece of music with me to heaven or hell wherever I am destined to go, it will be the Quintet from Die Maestersinger if only because it is a celebration of impossible becoming possible by disciplined hard work under able guidance.



Canadian Corn:

A Canadian edition of Ann Patchett’s novel “State of Wonder” is in the works. It will be called “Province of Wonder”.

A Sweet Repartee

It had rained all night and the morning was cold and wet even at the height of summer in mid July. But the sun came out at noon and dried the grass and trees. On this bright and pleasant afternoon, a happily married rather middle-aged couple was dressing for a lawn party in the Indian community. Ravi had put on tight white trousers and a brown shirt down to his knees, both of handspun cotton which was very fashionable among immigrants from his part of India, while Monica was wrapping a light blue silk sari with gold border around her tall, trim figure. Monica had all the jewellery lined up on the dressing table and, for once, it was Ravi who didn’t know what to wear to complete his attire. He had to shield his bald head from the sun but Monica wouldn’t let him use any of his fashionable hats, baseball cap or the Tilley sun hat, “you would look like a buffoon’, she said. Only recourse was the cap his sister had sent from India a few years ago for the occasions such as this when he wore an Indian outfit. However, it was much too tight to stay on and there was no reason to think it would fit after resting for a few years on the top shelf of the wardrobe. But Monica was firm and Ravi tried it. Lo and behold it fitted, a little loose if anything. “Did you do something to stretch it or my head has shrunk over last few years?” he asked Monica half in jest.
“Wouldn’t surprise me if it is your head - with that growing vacuum in there,” Monica replied with a smile.
“You are saying I am losing my brain,” Ravi protested.
“Yes, but only because I know it wouldn’t hurt your feelings,” Monica tried to soothe her husband.
“Now I have lost my heart as well as the head. Where will it all end?” Ravi was really down in the mouth.
“Oh dear! How you misunderstand. I did not say you have lost your brain or did not have a heart, only implied that they may be the wrong place,” Monica made another effort to calm Ravi.
“Perhaps in my big feet. Or in the knees. That is why I have trouble in running to catch the bus,” Ravi was sarcastic.
“More likely around the ever expanding waistline. You could accommodate an Einstein’s brain and Mother Teresa’s heart there,” Monica didn’t give up easily.
“OK I take the hint. This waistline has to shrink so the brain and heart can move back to their proper places. No beer, no pies for dessert, no fatty foods, no Indian dinners after tonight,” Ravi got carried away as usual.
“Hooray for you. I will join you and do the same,” Monica was supportive.
“Even if you don’t need to. That is indeed a sacrifice. And all for the love of a short, fat, bald, brownie! I always thought I married an angel. In truth I married a twogel, two angels in one” Ravi acknowledged and gave Monica a tight hug and a long kiss.