Eleanor Gnup: A fan of note

The “Ring” is vorbei — the great Los Angeles Wagner marathon ends tonight. It is Los Angeles’ first full “Ring of Nibelung” cycle, that zenith of song and stagecraft and music for opera lovers, and it requires devotion and fortitude of the sort perfected by people sometimes referred to a bit rudely as “Ring nuts.” People like Eleanor Gnup.

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FOR THE RECORD:
Patt Morrison: In her Saturday interview with “Ring” aficionado Eleanor Gnup, the work “Amapola” was misidentified as an opera because of a transcription error. It is a song. —

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She spent 17 years as the librarian at Brea Olinda High School, where a student told her about the opera appreciation class that changed her life. “Opera” is in her e-mail address, and a baritone-sized part of her life. She’s worked in the trenches with the Opera League for years, on the board and in the ranks. She loves opera generally and adores Wagner’s operas specifically, and is only half-kidding when she ruminates that her recovery from an extremely serious car accident a year ago may be credited in part to the fact that she already had her tickets to L.A.’s “Ring” cycle, “and I wasn’t about to lose those!”

This “Ring” in Los Angeles has just been the latest of so many for you. Do you go through withdrawal when a “Ring” cycle ends?

I used that word with friends. It’s true, all of a sudden there’s something major missing in my life for several days. I’ll say I’ve seen 26 “Rings,” and [some people] in a snide way say “Oh, you count.” I want to say — and I never do — when you’ve invested the travel time and the 16 hours of the “Ring” cycle and the money you spend on tickets — what do you mean? Of course I’m going to count! One year, Opera Magazine had a contest for the person who saw the most operas in one year. That year I saw 38. I didn’t win. Someone associated with [an] opera house had seen 92 or 95. But 38, I thought, was pretty substantial. I had a dreadful accident last June. I was in the hospital for four months, so I had to [cancel season tickets for] the L.A. Phil, and oh, I do miss it so dearly. My husband is 89 now, so our travel days I think are over. I was so glad I was able to see this “Ring” here, because it’s possibly my last. I don’t know — never say never!

Your husband, Eddy, loves all of this about as much as you do.

We met at the University of Pennsylvania. He was a baseball player with the university team. On our first date he said, “I’ve got tickets for the ballet,” and I thought, “He’s got tickets for the ballet? A baseball player who liked ballet? He can’t be all bad.” We’ve been married 60 years.

How did you come to love music?

At age 5, my father and mother decided I should take violin lessons. For the first week, I just practiced holding the instrument. My mother died when I was 12, [but] I had a couple of teachers who would take me to concerts in Philadelphia. For them to spend the time and money so I would hear these famous musicians, Jascha Heifetz and others — I didn’t realize how lucky I was. We moved to California in 1951, and joined an opera class at Fullerton College by Bill Glassman. We attended his class for 29 years.

This is pretty lowbrow, but in the film “Pretty Woman,” the Richard Gere character takes the Julia Roberts character to the opera and tells her something to the effect that opera is either something people never get, or something they never get over.

I have not seen the film but I have heard about it. You’re probably right. There are people who say, “Oh yes, I went to an opera once, my grandmother or my aunt took me,” and other people who will say, “Ohhhh, there’s something here. I have to see this again.”

Bayreuth is the mecca for Wagner lovers. How different is it from other opera houses?

There’s this immense orchestra. We don’t have it in L.A. because we don’t have the space. In Bayreuth they’ll have six harps in the pit, with one backstage. We have two. People say, what’s the best “Ring” you ever saw? I can’t even go there. But the first one [I saw] at Bayreuth was Rhine Maidens [of “Das Rheingold”], nude Rhine Maidens, swimming in this enormous pool of real water — somehow they used a device, probably mirrors, to indicate that they were swimming vertically — oh, it was remarkable.

When people talk about going to Bayreuth, they don’t understand: You cannot buy tickets online. You cannot call the box office to buy tickets. They do not accept credit cards. You have to get on the list, you have to write and they will send you an invitation and you will fill it out and then you will be rejected for eight to 10 years. When you send in your application, you cannot skip a year because the box office does not feel you’re dedicated enough. You go to the bottom of the list. I’m not jesting here. I did other things — joined the Opera Society, joined the Wagner Society, and we got tickets that way.

You love all opera, but it sounds like Wagner is head and shoulders above the rest for you.

Not even head and shoulders. It’s in a special category. It’s comparing apples and oranges. I need other operas, I want to see other operas, but Wagner is particularly seductive. We wouldn’t have traveled and spent the money and the time to go see Wagner if he weren’t really an important part of our lives.

You know controversy swirls around Wagner to this day, about his anti-Semitic politics.

I have read enough and understood enough [about] what kind of a character he was. I don’t bring him along with me to the opera. I see myself enjoying the music and realizing what a genius he was, and the rest is in a different compartment. There are people still who are highly incensed that we should be doing a “Ring” here. It’s gotten to be so old. I divorce myself from that camp.

What’s the difference between seeing the “Ring” here and in Bayreuth?

Bayreuth is none of this running around all day and going to the opera at night. All but a couple start at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. You have one-hour intermissions, people have a chance to talk, relax, have a beer and sausage, meet in the elegant dining room — that makes a lot of sense. Here, people run around all day and then go to the opera and wonder why they have a hard time keeping awake.

Passionate followers of rock bands know every word and have their own rituals. Is that how it works at Bayreuth?

The audience in Bayreuth, boy, are they devoted! They become quiet even before it starts. The usher girls lock the door with a key and then pull the curtains over the door. I asked one [what would happen] if there were a fire, and she said, “Oh, I’d unlock the door. We have firemen in the audience. They’re wearing dinner jackets.” The firemen in the audience wearing dinner jackets are going to put out the fire? I started hyperventilating. I had to put myself in a hypnotic state [to] quiet myself down!

You cannot get up even if you wanted to — there’s absolutely no room while you’re sitting. One year a young man, well over 6 feet, had his feet on the chair, grasping his knees. I said, “How do you manage?” He said, “Well, I’m used to it.” In the orchestra, the most expensive seats, there are no armrests. If you get somebody sizable next to you, they will definitely be in your territory.

If they don’t like it, they will boo. After the curtain comes down and everyone backstage has left, they continue to sit there and boo. It saddens me. I don’t care how dreadfully I thought someone sang, they’re doing their best. Don’t boo, just be quiet.

And people dress for the occasion.

In Bayreuth, the women understand you wear your black dress for “Parsifal.” You will see people at the opera here [like] a man in shorts and sports shoes and a go-to-hell hat on — just no respect for the production.

You have to have a good bladder to be an opera fan.

Either that, or wear Depends!

What’s the zaniest thing you’ve ever done to see an opera?

We belonged to the Opera Standees Assn. in San Francisco. You bought tickets at 10 a.m. and formed three lines in the lobby and sit on that thin, thin carpeting. You’d spot each other to go to the toilet or find something to eat. Then they’d open the doors and you’d run like Hades across this marble lobby and up the steps, because what you wanted is to get right behind the last row of seats so you’d have a railing to hang on to. We did that for years.

Is there something that’s not performed you’d like to see?

There are operas done in Europe that are just not done here, like “Amapola.” They’re not “La Traviata” and “Carmen.” People don’t know about them. Those operas from the Nazi era when they were suppressed [works highlighted in a conference at the L.A. Opera three years ago] — I would love to see those.

Have you learned to speak German by now?

No — I can read a German menu, though!

patt.morrison@latimes.com

This interview was edited and excerpted from a longer taped transcript. An archive of Morrison’s interviews is online at latimes.com/pattasks.