Opera Canada competition (re most intense experience at the opera).

IN OUR LAST COMPETITION, WE ASKED READERS TO RELATE THEIR MOST intense experiences at the opera. The responses were varied--from the post-performance dinner with Luciano Pavarotti that still gives Claire Molson goosebumps when she thinks about it to a concert by soprano Nathalie Paulin that seems, quite literally, to have taken the breath away from Eric Theriault. As the winning entry, we've chosen the following piece from Nancy Walden of Agincourt, Ont. Her very moving account is testimony to the power of music in general and opera in particular. Congratulations to Ms. Walden, who will receive the prize of five recent CBC records featuring Canadian singers Russell Braun, Michael Schade, Ben Heppner, Richard Margison, Tracy Dahl and the late Lois Marshall.

JUST THREE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, 1997, MY MOTHER SUFFERED A stroke. The damage to the left side of her brain weakened her right arm and leg, blinded her in one eye, wiped out her short-term memory and left her grasping to find the correct words to express herself. My moods coincided with hers as her emotions and recovery pitched wildly as on a roller-coaster ride. Often she could not remember my name.

One afternoon, I watched her disintegrate mentally from mildly confused to greatly agitated as her speech became mere gibberish. The knowledge of her failure to communicate so dismayed her that she curled up in bed in a fetal position and cried in frustration. There was nothing I could do to help her. Later, I recalled a story told at a writer's retreat of a rabbi being asked why God's words were always said to be written "on" the heart and not "in" the heart. The answer, the rabbi explained, was that when the heart breaks, they fall in. Now I truly understood the rabbi's answer. I knew the pain of that heartbreak.

Between Christmas and New Year's, the hospital's occupational therapist suggested to my sister and brother-in-law that we bring items from home that my mother loved and might evoke her memory. The question "Does she like music?" elicited an exasperated "Why didn't I think of that?" The purchase of a ghetto-blaster followed, and I was drafted to select some opera and classical music--"as you know about that stuff"--in addition to the carols and '50s and '60s songs my father and sister had picked.

I choose a compilation tape, Opera Goes to the Movies. Not only did my mother know virtually every aria but many were sung by her favorite artists; their names, ones I have known since a young girl: Leontyne Price, Roberta Peters, Anna Moffo and her favorite tenor, Jussi Bjoerling. Initially, her reaction was disappointing. "Vesti la Giubba" drew no comment at all, "One Fine Day" a mere "I know that piece," and the beautiful "Cavalleria Rusticana" passed unnoticed when a nurse cam in to check her temperature and blood pressure. Halfway through "Nessun Dorma," however, I noticed to my astonishment that she was tapping the tune with her toes--with both feet! Tapping one's toes to an opera aria is not an image that springs readily to mind.

As "Musetta's Waltz" began, so did she--to mimic the soprano part in a high, squeaky falsetto that left me splitting my sides laughing. (My mother is definitely an alto.) "I never could sing soprano," she said with a decided twinkle in her eye. "No kidding," I managed to gasp. More interruptions ensued until the final piece on the tape. As it started, she leaned back, relaxing on the pillows, closed her eyes and slowly raising her left hand, conducted Placido Domingo through "M'Appari" from Flotow's Martha. Her concentration was complete, her toes tapping again. Tears filled my eyes as I observed her obvious enjoyment. Hers remained closed after the music finished until she opened them to say, "My, didn't he sing his heart our on that one."

This "performance" did not take place on stage. There was no overture or intermission; no dramatic denouement or curtain calls. There was just an immense feeling of relief pervaded by a quiet joy that for a few moments at least, pain, confusion and frustration were forgotten and that, despite the debilitating effects of the stroke, my mother could still find pleasure in music. When she spoke of her reaction, I knew that it was truly my mother who was speaking and not the stroke.

ATTENTION WAGNERIANS!

FOR OUR NEXT COMPETITION, WE TURN OUR ATTENTION SPECIFICALLY TO the operas of Richard Wagner. Sometimes it seems that there are no half measures--people either love his music with a passion or reject it with as much vehemence! Our new competition is aimed at the legion of Wagner-lovers. Our question is this: Can you describe the circumstances in which you first consciously fell under the spell of Wagner's music? Maybe it was at a particular performance. Maybe it was on hearing a particular record or a particular singer. Or maybe it wasn't quite so sudden. We'd like you to describe your experiences in 500-750 words, and the winning entry will be published in a future issue. The prize in this competition, kindly donated by London Records, is a handsome one and appropriately Wagnerian. The winning entry, as judged by the editors of the magazine, will receive the recently reissued boxed set of Wagner's Der Ring des Nibulungen in the classic performance conducted by the late Sir Georg Solti.

Send your entries to: The Opera Canada Competition, 366 Adelaide Street East, Suite 434, Toronto, Ont., M5A 3X9. Entries should be received by September 15, 1998. Good luck!