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08-at the shrine of st. wagner-第4章

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there and laid in their mementoes and gone; is the quietest thing

you can lay on your keelson except gravel。



THURSDAY。They keep two teams of singers in stock for the

chief roles; and one of these is composed of the most renowned

artists in the world; with Materna and Alvary in the lead。  I

suppose a double team is necessary; doubtless a single team would

die of exhaustion in a week; for all the plays last from four in

the afternoon till ten at night。  Nearly all the labor falls upon

the half…dozen head singers; and apparently they are required to

furnish all the noise they can for the money。  If they feel a

soft; whispery; mysterious feeling they are required to open out

and let the public know it。  Operas are given only on Sundays;

Mondays; Wednesdays; and Thursdays; with three days of ostensible

rest per week; and two teams to do the four operas; but the

ostensible rest is devoted largely to rehearsing。  It is said

that the off days are devoted to rehearsing from some time in the

morning till ten at night。  Are there two orchestras also?  It is

quite likely; since there are one hundred and ten names in the

orchestra list。



Yesterday the opera was 〃Tristan and Isolde。〃  I have seen

all sorts of audiencesat theaters; operas; concerts; lectures;

sermons; funeralsbut none which was twin to the Wagner audience

of Bayreuth for fixed and reverential attention。  Absolute

attention and petrified retention to the end of an act of the

attitude assumed at the beginning of it。  You detect no movement

in the solid mass of heads and shoulders。  You seem to sit with

the dead in the gloom of a tomb。  You know that they are being

stirred to their profoundest depths; that there are times when

they want to rise and wave handkerchiefs and shout their

approbation; and times when tears are running down their faces;

and it would be a relief to free their pent emotions in sobs or

screams; yet you hear not one utterance till the curtain swings

together and the closing strains have slowly faded out and died;

then the dead rise with one impulse and shake the building with

their applause。  Every seat is full in the first act; there is

not a vacant one in the last。  If a man would be conspicuous; let

him come here and retire from the house in the midst of an act。

It would make him celebrated。



This audience reminds me of nothing I have ever seen and of

nothing I have read about except the city in the Arabian tale

where all the inhabitants have been turned to brass and the

traveler finds them after centuries mute; motionless; and still

retaining the attitudes which they last knew in life。  Here the

Wagner audience dress as they please; and sit in the dark and

worship in silence。  At the Metropolitan in New York they sit in

a glare; and wear their showiest harness; they hum airs; they

squeak fans; they titter; and they gabble all the time。  In some

of the boxes the conversation and laughter are so loud as to

divide the attention of the house with the stage。  In large

measure the Metropolitan is a show…case for rich fashionables who

are not trained in Wagnerian music and have no reverence for it;

but who like to promote art and show their clothes。



Can that be an agreeable atmosphere to persons in whom this

music produces a sort of divine ecstasy and to whom its creator

is a very deity; his stage a temple; the works of his brain and

hands consecrated things; and the partaking of them with eye and

ear a sacred solemnity?  Manifestly; no。  Then; perhaps the

temporary expatriation; the tedious traversing of seas and

continents; the pilgrimage to Bayreuth stands explained。  These

devotees would worship in an atmosphere of devotion。  It is only

here that they can find it without fleck or blemish or any

worldly pollution。  In this remote village there are no sights to

see; there is no newspaper to intrude the worries of the distant

world; there is nothing going on; it is always Sunday。  The

pilgrim wends to his temple out of town; sits out his moving

service; returns to his bed with his heart and soul and his body

exhausted by long hours of tremendous emotion; and he is in no

fit condition to do anything but to lie torpid and slowly gather

back life and strength for the next service。  This opera of

〃Tristan and Isolde〃 last night broke the hearts of all witnesses

who were of the faith; and I know of some who have heard of many

who could not sleep after it; but cried the night away。  I feel

strongly out of place here。  Sometimes I feel like the sane

person in a community of the mad; sometimes I feel like the one

blind man where all others see; the one groping savage in the

college of the learned; and always; during service; I feel like a

heretic in heaven。



But by no means do I ever overlook or minify the fact that

this is one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life。  I

have never seen anything like this before。  I have never seen

anything so great and fine and real as this devotion。



FRIDAY。Yesterday's opera was 〃Parsifal〃 again。  The others

went and they show marked advance in appreciation; but I went

hunting for relics and reminders of the Margravine Wilhelmina;

she of the imperishable 〃Memoirs。〃  I am properly grateful to her

for her (unconscious) satire upon monarchy and nobility; and

therefore nothing which her hand touched or her eye looked upon

is indifferent to me。  I am her pilgrim; the rest of this

multitude here are Wagner's。



TUESDAY。I have seen my last two operas; my season is

ended; and we cross over into Bohemia this afternoon。  I was

supposing that my musical regeneration was accomplished and

perfected; because I enjoyed both of these operas; singing and

all; and; moreover; one of them was 〃Parsifal;〃 but the experts

have disenchanted me。  They say:



〃Singing!  That wasn't singing; that was the wailing;

screeching of third…rate obscurities; palmed off on us in the

interest of economy。〃



Well; I ought to have recognized the signthe old; sure

sign that has never failed me in matters of art。  Whenever I

enjoy anything in art it means that it is mighty poor。  The

private knowledge of this fact has saved me from going to pieces

with enthusiasm in front of many and many a chromo。  However; my

base instinct does bring me profit sometimes; I was the only man

out of thirty…two hundred who got his money back on those two operas。







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