While I don’t consider myself an opera fan (I have trouble remembering who wrote what and can’t name more than a half-dozen current stars, although I’m now adding Andreas Schager, who sang an absolutely spellbinding Rienzi), the generous invitation of a friend to accompany her to the 150th anniversary of the legendary Wagner Festival in Bayreuth was an offer I couldn’t (or at least didn’t) refuse. I had heard tales of audience aspirants joining multiple Wagner societies in hopes of improving their chances of getting the much-sought-after tickets and feeling lucky in obtaining them after a mere 10-year wait, but that is a measure I have never been interested in pursuing. But did I want to go? You betcha!
The Flying Dutchman, Wagner’s third opera, was inspired by Heinrich Heine’s retelling of the tragic legend and debuted in 1843 in Dresden under the composer’s direction. The opera’s manuscript belongs to the Richard Wagner Foundation in Bayreuth and parts of it were on display in the nearby Wagner Museum, once the composer’s home. Dutchman was the earliest of Wagner’s operas performed in Bayreuth until this year. Rienzi, Wagner’s second opera (premiered in Dresden in 1842), ignited his career at a precarious professional moment, when the young artist was hounded by creditors.
Rienzi was performed in Bayreuth this year for the first time ever, and Wagner fans flocked to the historic event. Why? By the time the acoustically perfect opera house opened in 1876, Wagner was embarrassed by his early works, which he considered uncomfortably derivative of the grand French tradition (represented at the time by his Jewish compatriot Giacomo Meyerbeer, who, despite his Italian-German sounding name, was the darling of the Paris opera scene in the 1830s and -40s). In 1939, Rienzi became tainted when Adolph Hitler requested (and received) the manuscript as a birthday gift in commemoration of his having seen the opera in 1905, an experience that made a deep impression on the initially aspiring painter. The manuscript has been missing since 1945, with speculation that it perished along with its owner in a Berlin bunker in 1945. Considering the sensitivity of Germans to anything associated with their fascist past, performance of Rienzi was tabled for decades despite periodic reconsideration. Now, it was decided, is not ‘too soon’.
The Bayreuth opera experience differed from all others I’ve attended in several remarkable and much-appreciated ways. Firstly, the acoustics are outstanding. We sat at the edge of Row 22 for Dutchman and in the center of Row 2 for Rienzi, and the acoustical experience was comparable. I was also delighted to find a total absence of supertitles. What a blessing! I mean, if you don’t know an opera’s story, look it up on Wikipedia beforehand or (preferably) buy a program. And, the perfect comportment of the audience (no spontaneous clapping following a stellar solo as I’ve experienced elsewhere at the opera, as at sporting events and jazz concerts, and no crinkling of packaging and munching on peanut M&Ms – yes, that’s happened!) meant one could relax and enjoy, rather than resting on tenterhooks, awaiting the next irritating interruption. In addition, on each performance day at 10:30, a free lecture is offered in the concert hall by a knowledgeable fellow who explains the performance history and narrative, as well as the artistic choices made by conductor and director.
And the fashion show! The audience arrives early to performances, partly because the 
I had always assumed that the Bayreuth experience could only be appreciated by diehard Wagner fans, but discovered it was a lovely (at moments, sublime) cultural experience of a sort that I remember as once the norm but nowadays as a rare and extraordinary event. So, if the opportunity presents itself, just say ‘YES’!
