I loved the Met's Walkure, much to my surprise, so I went to Tristan und Isolde on Friday night with much anticipation. Turns out that I am one of those people who become physically ill from Wagnerian unresolved harmonic sequences. I don't mind suspense, but the slippery meanderings were too much for me. I spent 95 percent of the first act in a dead stupor, eyes closed, head bent. The applause woke me, and I fled into the March night.
The opera began at 7 p.m. and lasted until midnight. I only made it until 8:30 p.m. I am not usually an early departer. I don't often think operas are too long, although just about everyone I attend with makes that complaint.
I guess the Ring will have to get along without me.
