Dare anyone criticize this operatic masterpiece?  My companion at the HD telecast of the Met’s Meistersinger did, in defiance to the monumental acclaim that’s usually heaped on the opera.

His divergent view should not be dismissed. Though new to Meistersinger, my companion has seen three productions of Wagner’s Ring and loved them. I’ll try to counter his complaints based on my personal fondness for Meistersinger that goes back to attending a 1956 performance with Otto Edelmann and Lisa Della Casa.

Complaint number one: The opera is needlessly long, typified by twenty minutes at the start before any action takes place, followed by another twenty minutes of recitation of the detailed rules of Nuremberg’s Master Singers. You're forty minutes in before you get to see action and hear melody. The opera's total length is close to five hours, plus intermissions.

My response: Try to remember that the opera comes from an era when audience members removed themselves from the outside world when they entered the theater. There were no distractions from cell phones, nor any TV or recordings waiting at home. Operas and concerts provided leisurely immersion in beautiful sounds—and the longer they were stretched out, the better. I concede the longueur of the first act but, on the other hand, the third act is so beautiful that I don’t want it to end even though it’s nearly two hours long.

Second complaint: Although billed as a comedy, this opera has hardly any laughs except the nasty ones aimed at Beckmesser.

My reply: Meistersinger is a comedy in the sense that it is a gentle, non-tragic look at life, much like Saroyan’s The Human Comedy. We laugh gently as we recognize people and situations that are familiar in our own lives, chuckling as if to say “how true.” Don’t expect Falstaffian guffaws.

Complaint three: Nowhere in Meistersinger is there an enthralling melody like those that Wagner wrote for Isolde’s Liebestod or the Magic Fire Music or Winterstürme in Walküre. Walther’s prize-winning song isn't rapturous enough to capture first place in any sensible contest. 

My rejoinder: I admit that the passion between Walther and Eva is pallid, and much of the score is conversational but for a good reason---because Wagner is telling a story of real life. Look at this as a plus. More than any other Wagner opera, this orchestra plays chamber-like music that allows the voices to predominate. A week after seeing Meistersinger, some of the tunes still dance in my head and intrude on my thoughts.

Another complaint: Most of the members of the masters guild are not individualized. Despite their long periods on stage, they are stick figures.

Response: The dignified goldsmith Pogner and the baker Kothner are personalized and are given beautiful singing opportunities. And Hans Sachs is one the fullest, richest characters in all of opera. He is wise and noble, humane, philosophical and forward-looking. He is stern one moment and loving at another. He feels the pangs of love for Eva, then he can display anger.

I admit that the furrier Vogelgesang, the tinsmith Nachtigall, the soapmaker Ortel, the peweterer Zorn, the tailor Moser, the coppersmith Foltz, the weaver Schwarz and the grocer Eisslinger receive lots of stage time but no character development. It is enough that they are there to demonstrate the link between work and the arts. Wagner’s glorification of the relationship between ordinary citizenry and music is one of the charms of this opera.

Meistersinger brings to life the details of a specific German city at a particular time, when religious custom was more pervasive than nationalism. Hence the inclusion of a church service, the baptism of a song and much fuss about St. John’s Day. In Hans Sachs' era, you will recall, Martin Luther called for German resistance to the papacy in nationalist terms. By Wagner's time the walled medieval city of Nuremberg was a relic of the past, a “dream city,” a nostalgic representation of German identity, and Wagner tied this to the establishment of a unified German Empire which reached achievement in 1871—three years after the premiere of Die Meistersinger.

The opera is notable for its dramatization of the conflict between tradition and originality. Wagner argues for the acceptance of new ideas—like Walther’s song—yet retaining respect for society’s cultural traditions.

This sociopolitical messaging makes the opera fascinating, even though Wagner introduced disturbing language into the final scene where he put these words into Sach’s mouth: “We are threatened. If the German people and kingdom should one day decay under a false, foreign rule...what is German and true none would know." He may have been thinking of the French (the Franco-Prussian War of 1870 was brewing), or of Jews, but the surtitles for this performance soften the wording and give Sach’s valedictory a more benign tone.

The production was devised by Otto Schenk in 1993 with sets by Günther Schneider-Siemssen and now will be retired, just as their Ring was after 2009. It is a realistic reproduction of 16th-century Nuremberg, as it should be, except the “meadow” where the song contest finale is held looked, instead, like a town square.

On the HD telecast Michael Volle dominated the action as Sachs. His bass-baritone was warm and expressive. The Pogner, Hans-Peter König, showed a mellifluous voice and warm affection for his child, Eva. Johannes Martin Kränzle was outstanding as Beckmesser, the vindictive authoritarian who judged the song contestants.

The South African tenor Johan Botha has been praised for his cleanly-sung Walther. I’ll add that his facial expressions were appealing and he moved well, despite his very large physique. He is the best in this role in recent times. I regret, however, that the voice simply lacks sensuous beauty—and that’s important because the cast and the audience are supposed to fall in love with his song . If any reader has an air-check of Lauritz Melchior in Meistersinger, please contact me. That’s the sound I long to hear in a Walther.

Annette Dasch as Eva looked attractively homespun but her voice was ordinary. She was at her best in her opening phrases of the Act III quintet. Paul Appleby looked eager and sounded fresh-voiced as the apprentice David. The Met Chorus under Donald Palumbo was magnificent. James Levine’s conducting of the score was authoritative and the Prelude to Act III was especially poignant.

Matthew Diamond’s TV direction nicely captured the production’s picturesque medievalism.