Word: mmerung
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Manhattan's Grand Old Lady of 39th Street, the Metropolitan Opera House, has a lot of friends to save her from Götterdämmerung. A committee has been lobbying to prevent the building from being demolished to make way for an office skyscraper. Trouble is, the Met itself doesn't share their concern. The company, now housed in Lincoln Center, stands to lose $500,000 per annum in rent on the proposed office building; worse yet, the Met would have to pay a pretty penny just to keep its old home in repair. Taking all that...
Richard's great-grandson stumbled onto that, he spirited it off to Munich's Karl and Faber auction house to sell for pocket money. "Götterdämmerung!" the family muttered when they heard what Wummi was up to. When the auction house refused to withdraw the sketch, the Wagners bid it back from themselves for $26,200, and dolefully paid $5,700 in commissions to the auctioneers. Wummi got not a pfennig...
Wieland also revised the scenery. Grandpa's gods and goddesses journey toward their Gotterdümmerung through abstract-mobile backgrounds created by light projections with only the minimum of necessary realism: an oppressive Mycenaean Valhalla and a Gibichungen hall studded with hundreds of bleached animal skulls. A cast headed by Birgit Nilsson, Wolfgang Windgassen, Theo Adam, James King, Anja Silja, Lili Chookasian and Leonie Rysanek responded to Wieland's direction with magnificent singing. Under the baton of Conductor Karl Boehm, the orchestra became accompaniment and comment, echo and counterpoint of each gesture onstage...
...supply of food and water, they decided to cut across the unmarked desert. The going was a lot slower than they expected, and the Volks began to falter. Suddenly they realized that what had begun as a search for ancient gods might turn into a grim Götterdämmerung. Noted Gunther Wanderscheck, 33, on a scrap of paper dated three days after they left Cairo: "Our condition is very bad. We have only eight liters [about two gallons] of water and five cans of mango juice." Then the little VW stalled, and eight miles farther on the Micro Bus bogged...
...expansion of German power, not a theatrical display of glory." This is an odd assessment of a man who wallowed in the theatrical, whether haranguing the chanting mobs under the searchlights at Nürnberg or accepting the total destruction of Germany as a suitable Götterdämmerung to accompany his own demise. His nationalism, far from being the common variety, was the most virulent racism the world has ever known...