Friday, May 5:
At 10 o’clock to the final rehearsal in the opera house; listened to it surrounded by friends; it goes very well. Before leaving, R. speaks once more to the stage technicians regarding a little dais for the singers. Herr v. Hulsen happens to be there; he rushes back into the wings, and I notice great embarrassment among the workers.
I ask Kathchen whether anything has happened, and she tells me that “the large and imposing gentleman,” v. Hulsen, has just made a terrible onslaught on his people and told them they should not obey Wagner, the man has no right to give orders here, his job is just to wield the baton; and all this spoken in a towering rage, the poor harried, ignored manager! I say nothing to R., but send for Eckert and ask him to attend to it.
I am overcome by overtiredness, am put to bed; giddiness, fainting fits, and God knows what else prevent my getting dressed. A quarter of an hour before the concert, when R. is about to cancel it on my account, I pull myself together, throw my dress over my head, and drive with R. to the concert.
The auditorium in festive mood, the Court present. It all goes well; the orchestra makes a lovely sound, thanks to the acoustic barrier R. had erected; unanimous, unending applause. My main impression the C Minor Symphony. R. satisfied, and our dear good minister’s wife beaming.
Beforehand another little Hulsen episode: he forbids the podium to be decorated and orders the box attendants to admit no one with flowers. Frau v. Schleinitz hears of this, confronts him with it, and receives the reply that it was a misunderstanding, so flowers were then thrown in plenty.
R. reaches home in quite a good mood, feeling touched by the good will of the orchestra. Before the performance the first violinist came to him and begged his forbearance, saying, “You have no idea how these things, the symphonies, are rattled off here.”