Saturday, June 28:
To the house in the morning, experiments with hot-air heating. Joy in the garden and in Fidi! In the afternoon a sitting, in the evening Uhland.
In our conversation over afternoon coffee we set both the large and the small worlds to rights, as R. expresses it.
At lunch he tells me about the opera Une Nuit dans la Forêt by Dalayrac, an opera about a rescue, like all those written after the Revolution how touching and interesting this was; then about a new French opera he saw in Paris in which two knights silently realize that they must fight each other, and they then fight how excellently this was played.
“Yes, the French are certainly actors, magnificent ones. But warm, serene tone in which the Landgraf, for instance, should sing.”