Wotan's Farewell

The only really likable characters in Wagnerian opera are old men. While the youthful Siegfrieds, Tristans and Tannhausers are all muscle--on the stage, mostly stomach--and ego, their elders (Wotan, Hans Sachs, Kurwenal, et al.) are mostly kindhearted, responsible, possessed of human failings and a regard for social obligations. For 20 years at Manhattan's Metropolitan Opera these benign Wagnerian oldsters have been impersonated by the outstanding Wagnerian baritone of his generation, stocky, bald-headed Friedrich Schorr. Last week, before a packed house that rose to its feet and cheered, Friedrich Schorr sang Wotan for the last time. At 54, Friedrich Schorr was getting too old to be Wagner's old men.

Schorr first appeared as Wotan when he was 23, in the provincial opera house in Graz, Austria. Son of a well-to-do Jewish cantor, he grew up in Vienna, where he studied law, earned his singing lessons by tutoring in Latin and Greek. His career really began to move in 1923, when he was stranded in the U.S. with a troupe of Wagnerian barnstormers. The managers failed to make good their $75,000 guarantee, but Schorr went on to the Metropolitan.

Friedrich Schorr's greatness as a Wagnerian interpreter sprang not as much from his voice (which was never spectacular) as from his "scholarship. An earnest, methodical man, he made Wagner's roles his business, and learned that business from the ground up. Before he considered himself ready to sing Hans Sachs, he made a trip to Nuremberg, ransacked its old churches and libraries for material on the medieval Meistersinger. Schorr never sang a major role without shutting himself up for hours before the performance, going over every detail with meticulous care. Said he: "I have a great responsibility to the audience. I would not go out to a nightclub the evening before I sing. If I did, and my performance was poor, it would be my fault."

Friedrich Schorr now looks forward to teaching younger singers his vast Wagnerian lore. With the proceeds of his 400-odd Metropolitan performances he has bought himself a home in Monroe, N.Y., where, with German methodicalness, he raises potatoes and experimental cherry bushes. For relaxation he climbs the surrounding hills with his tough-looking German boxer, hunts and fishes in Tyrolean knee breeches and a feathered hat.

Despite his thoroughness, Schorr did not get through his farewell performance without a slip. The spear he carried fell apart in his hands several minutes before Melchior was to sever it with a blow of Siegfried's sword. But Friedrich Schorr overrode this mishap. Said he: "I am really very happy. I consider it a great blessing to be able to retire of my own accord. . . ."

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