Kathy and I went to see the Lyric’s production of ‘Die Meistersinger’ last night and as it promised to be a 6 hour event I was filled with trepidation. After all, a flight to visit family in California takes a bit less than 5 hours but renders me (at 75) a bit stiff and achey; and a 7 hour flight to London taxes my endurance fully. Fortunately, intermissions relieved the pain and I was able to walk out without a limp. Of course other considerations had tempered my enthusiasm for the outing.
I’ve seen all 4 operas of Wagner’s ‘ring cycle’ (about 16 hours!) and I confess that I have found the combination of beautiful music, staggeringly dull plot (a synopsis of which could be printed on the back of a cereal box), warm opera house, comfy seat and dim lights to be a guaranteed soporific. In fact whenever I think of Wagner, I think of two stories, the first involving English author Evelyn Waugh and the second the late Fritz Reiner, great one time conductor of the Chicago Symphony.
During World War II Waugh volunteered for service in the British Army; and though he was well into his 30s he was fit enough to be accepted into an elite British Commando unit. As fate would have it, his unit’s first deployment was to cover the British Army’s evacuation of Crete in 1941; and it was there he made his, to me, memorable comment. As his commanding officer and Evelyn were standing in a slit trench enduring a seemingly endless German bombing attack, the senior officer turned to Evelyn and remarked, “You know, Evelyn, you really have to admire the Germans for their thoroughness” (I hope that quote is accurate). Waugh thought for a second and replied, “Yes, but rather like Wagner, they do tend to keep it up a bit too long.” That quote, firmly implanted in my mind and coupled with my experience of the ring, has tended to imbue my approach to Wagner with a cautious willingness to ‘bail out’ if I can endure no more.
Reiner, on the other hand, was a Wagner enthusiast; but when, on one occasion, he was interviewed about his conducting career, he could not keep himself from telling the following story. In the late 1930s he’d been conducting Wagner in (I believe) Cleveland and had made an after concert dinner date with friends. So after the cast and he had taken their bows, he made for the nearest exit - which happened to be through the departing crowd. While in their midst, he heard the following husband/wife exchange. Husband, “What time is it?” “10:45,” she replied. “No, No,” he said, “Just tell me, is Roosevelt still president?” A witty comment, but one that added to my Wagnerian angst. So it was, anticipating pain, suffering, boredom - and a high priced nap - that I went to what my wife had promised me was a ‘one in a lifetime experience’. Thankfully, she was right; and though the time didn’t quite fly, I enjoyed it thoroughly. The voices were wonderful, the story amusing and the staging lush - things any theater lover will appreciate; and my experience is illustrative of the ‘post hoc’ fallacy.
It’s the “if this, then that” fallacy which presumes perfect connections and knowledge without either being present. I had presumed that my prior experience and understandings were sufficient knowledge upon which to base my a priori judgement of a work of art. In point of fact, it wasn’t; but it raised another question - that of the importance of empirical knowledge to understanding the world around us. Though I’ve seen a bit of opera over the last quarter of a century, I’ve not seen it all; so I should have known that, above and beyond any particular composer, I delight in a combination of melody, story and performance. How like appreciating a gem; and how like the internet gem auto didact I was. I should have known better.
As our business is primarily diamonds, I encounter the ‘self trained’ diamond ‘expert’ on an almost daily basis. That is, without having ever looked at a diamond, people come to me asking for a, “One carat G, VS1”, all of this, of course, without understanding what such a diamond might look like. ‘Carat’ is a unit of weight (0.2 grams) and a statement of weight is no guarantee of an appearance of size. Then there’s color, “G?” Color grades are ranges, so a ‘G’ can be very close to an ‘F’ at one end or an ‘H’ at the other, and clarity, ‘VS1’ is still another story, as clarity grades are, again, ranges. Caught in the details of rarity, but not understanding them, these wonderful diamond savants usually bundle ‘carat weight, color, clarity and cut’ together as if they are co-equals in their effects on appearance. They’re not. Beauty is a product of what light does when each of these, in its appropriate proportion, makes a diamond ‘sing’ with light, sparkle and, yes, color. The very best cut diamonds must, like Die Meistersinger, be experienced to be understood, appreciated and treasured. It is the power to astonish that makes art great.
Herr Wagner, I apologize - and, diamond buyers, as one of you, but now a humbled, reformed and chastened auto didact, you need to come see me. We love the art of the diamond and we understand it perfectly! Our only interest is in making the most beautiful diamonds and other fine gems available to you. So lean on us; check out our website, hurstsberwynjewelers.com, then phone us at 708.788.0880 for an appointment with your perfect gem. We’re Hursts’ Berwyn Jewelers, not a common jeweler.
P.S. If you have diamonds or broken or unworn pieces of jewelry that you would like to sell, come in and we’ll help you establish their market value; and perhaps, we’ll make the best offer to buy them.
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