The works that produce the most traceable effects in the subsequent history of an art are not always those which come to be regarded as epoch-making.
—Donald Francis Tovey

Perhaps the most productive midlife crisis in the history of music began in early March 1880 with a sly little note written by a low-level bureaucrat to his superior at the ministry of the interior in Paris. “Monsieur,” it began, “personal matters require my presence in Bordeaux. I would be most grateful if you would permit me three days leave from the Ministry that I might settle my affairs.” There were, however, no affaires d’in- térêt in Bordeaux or anywhere else in France, as the writer then smilingly admitted.

The above explanation is just for the file! Now, because I never lie and because for this reason I have been well regarded by my superiors, I will, just between us, tell you the real truth: for the last ten years … I’ve been dying to see Tristan et Yseult by Richard Wagner. It can only be seen in Germany … and it will be given in Munich this Sunday… . I beg you to forgive this administrative escapade … [but] I’ll be back in the office no later than Wednesday morning.

Along with a small group of friends, the bureaucrat traveled to Munich for a matinee performance of Tristan. One of the group, the composer Paul Duparc, would write that his companion was overcome at