My enthusiasm for musical performances seems to take on some sort of overwhelming urgency when I travel. As a result, I’ve been known to use the “city of music” description as I move about, especially in Europe.
I’ve used the phrase when I write of Vienna (which really does call itself such in the city’s promotional efforts), Venice, Milan, and Paris. And needless to say, from our many visits to our own city’s opera and ballet performances, I probably should focus on my own hometown as a “city of music.” Of course Andrew and I attend many opera and ballet performances, but I always think we should do more in the way of orchestral and chamber music. But let’s not kid ourselves: we have other interests as well, and the last time I checked there are still only seven days in a week.
Nevertheless, travel seems to bring out the desire for “more,” and our long visit to Berlin during December and part of January gave Andrew and me a splendid opportunity to indulge (sadly, though, no ballet—during the holiday period every ballet program was totally sold out, as were many operas).
No worries. We persevered and had five splendid experiences. If I’ve shared these descriptions with some readers before, I apologize. On long vacations I tend to write many letters, so some of the information below might be repetitious to some readers.

Any musical plans for Berlin start with the Staatsoper, reopened in 2017 after a ten-year renovation. We had our first musical evening in Berlin here, for what’s known to many friends as Guy’s “favorite” opera: Die Meistersinger von Nüremberg. Built between 1741 and 1743 and long known as “the Court opera,” the Staatsoper has been re-built several times, and this last renovation has given Berlin and its opera lovers a stunning hall for this particular art form, especially in terms of its beauty and, not insignificantly, its splendid acoustics. Every note played or sung is perfectly clear.
On the other hand, while we enjoyed the evening, unlike with our other musical events, the Staatsoper performance let us down a little. The production was fine, sets and costumes that seemed to be of some vague—and pretty mixed up—“modern” style. We were told the production dated from 2015, so perhaps there was some effort to make the look of the show more contemporary but for us it didn’t really work.
Musically, the chorus (huge for the size of the house and its stage) was superb. And the orchestra—well, if I were not such a die-hard fan of our MET orchestra—I would be tempted to say it’s the best opera orchestra I’ve ever heard. It was delightful to hear—the playing was gorgeous.
As far as our being a little disappointed, it certainly wasn’t the chorus or the orchestra, or even two of the lead characters. Our Hans Sachs was Christopher Maltman and our Walther von Stolzing was Klaus Florian Vogt, both of whom we have had in New York, and we like them a lot. Both sang beautifully and acted well (as we always get with their performances).
It was some of the other leading singers who disappointed. Yes, they had their vocal talents and all of them were fine singers, with well-trained voices. But three of the artists (singing David, Eva, and Magdalene, critical roles in the telling of the story) just didn’t seem to care very much about what they were doing. They were just “doing their jobs.”

Other performances we heard had no such (relatively minor, to be fair) letdowns. After a few days, we made our way to Berlin’s “other” opera house, the Deutsche Oper Berlin (in fact, there really are three opera houses but the Komische Oper Berlin is currently undergoing a re-building, and the Schiller Theater—its “temporary” home—is very small and had few available seats for any of the company’s performances).
At the Deutsche Oper we had a classic Lucia di Lammermoor and I mean “classic” all the way: lovely décor and costumes (in a production we were told is 40 years old, so it must have been re-furbished several times—it looked beautiful to us). The performances were splendid, the chorus and orchestra well-led and performing very well, and a genuinely old-fashioned and much-to-be admired evening of music.
We went next to the beautiful Sophienkirche in the Spandauer Verstadt district, not far from our hotel in the Berlin-Mitte section of Berlin. Consecrated in 1713, the church provided a very special setting for a beautiful concert at the Akademie für Alte Musik.

This annual “Barocke Weihnacht” (Baroque Christmas) program was very special, and we enjoyed all the selections from a wide range of composers, including dall’Abaco, Leclair, Delalande, Platti, and, of course Corelli and Telemann. It was an unforgettable evening and we were especially grateful one of our dearest friends—of over thirty-five years—who provided the concert as our Christmas gift.
Then another opera, back at the Deutsche Oper, where we returned for Il Viaggio a Reims, Rossini’s beloved and very funny opera, full of thrilling (and challenging) music, and sadly one we don’t get very often in New York. I don’t know why, because opera singers love to sing this delightful music and audiences seem to just like it, despite its ridiculous story line.
And the silliness of the plot seems to persuade many opera producers to do just anything with it. Usually the action takes place at a spa hotel (The Golden Lily) where elegant and rather grand travelers are staying, to leave soon to continue their journey to the coronation of Charles X. In this production, the coronation is largely forgotten and the setting is a modern-day hospital for people with—shall we say?—some strong problems with day-to-day life. It’s all very funny (well, as I say, silly) and of course everything turns out fine after the antics of the patients. We had great fun with the performance and it was perfect holiday entertainment.
Our grand musical climax for Berlin came on New Year’s Day when we attended Mendelssohn’s Oratorio Paulus. It was a special memory event for me, for I remember singing this oratorio back in the 1970’s when I was a member of the (then) huge choir at St. Bartholomew’s Church in New York City.
For the Berlin performance, the choir was equally huge (about 80 singers). It was the famous RIAS Kammerchor Berlin and, again, musicians from the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin. And our already mentioned Berlin friend characterized the choir well, telling us that all her life she thought about how—if she wasn’t already living in Berlin—she would want to move there to be able to hear the choir on a regular basis. How lucky she is, and how much we enjoyed the performance.
And, for a tiny closing memory, we non-Berliners were very impressed at how the performers entered the performance area of the Berlin Philharmonie (the main concert hall in Berlin). As we made way to our seats and sat down, there were (as always) a few orchestra members tuning their instruments, but only a few. After a while, they got up, took their instruments, and left the stage.
Then, when it was time for the performance to begin, the orchestra players come into the front of the area, walking in a straight line, and going to their seats and remained standing, with the audience applauding. Behind them, and at the same time, the chorus members started walking in, and like the orchestra players, the singers walked very slowly and with great dignity to their places. There they all stood, until the conductor came out. The applause continued, with much enthusiasm, and the performers finally sat down. There was a few minutes of silence, and the program began.
What a dignified way to begin the program, honoring all the musicians and singers. We couldn’t help but notice, and we greatly agreed with the respect shown to the performers. .