Perfection and what to do about it

Recently at the dinner table we were trying to show my elderly mother-in-law (who lives with us) what the internet means in terms of seeking out quality entertainment during sequestration. (Her go-to position is They Probably Don’t Make Good Movies/TV Shows/Operas Any More Do They.)

Always a fun scene, from Act I of Marriage of Figaro (Garsington Opera at Wormsley)

I whipped out the iPad and pulled up operavision.eu, a wonderful website that streams live performances of opera from all over Europe and then archives them for about a month. I picked The Marriage of Figaro because it’s the perfect opera, of course, and for the past two nights we’ve watched Acts I and II of this excellent production of a perfect opera.

I had never heard of Garsington Opera; it’s like Glyndebourne, in that it’s a privately operated summer festival on the grounds of a large English estate, this one being Wormsley, in Buckinghamshire. This production is ringing all my bells: a beautiful and interesting set design; great costumes; an attractive cast who can act; and superb direction.

And above all, Mozart. Ah, Mozart.

Professor Peter Schickele speaks for all of us when he says that after an encounter with Mozart’s music, we are left feeling like chewing gum someone scraped off their shoe (I’m paraphrasing), because who the hell can hope to achieve that kind of perfection? (Whereas, he says, after an encounter with the music of P.D.Q. Bach, we feel that certainly we could have done a better job.)

Prof. Schickele is right, of course. You and I will never create anything as perfect as Figaro.

However, that is not as depressing a thought as you might think, for several reasons. As I’ve written before, being incapable of such perfection is actually a release. We don’t have to try to create such perfection, because no one expects us to. We have Mozart for that.

We get to muddle along our own path, secure in the knowledge that no one is going to hold us to the same standard as Mozart. Only an insane person would even suggest such a thing, and yes, I am talking to YOU.

Another reason we shouldn’t be depressed by Figaro is that HAVE YOU HEARD THIS PIECE? It’s like being bathed in a pure golden wash of light and ecstasy. Mozart’s music is a gift from the universe to itself, and we get to be a part of that.

And that’s not depressing.

-—-—-—

P.S. Happy Poetry Month!