So here we are, talking about the so-called Cult of Wagner. No wonder some people recoil from the German composer, given such terminology. It’s not a new coinage of course, but it’s a fairly dubious one. One old acquaintance of mine, on hearing about this event, sent me an email demanding to know: ‘You are not besotted with it, are you??? Are you one of those who travel all over the world to notch up another Cycle.’

Really, she made Wagnerites – imperfect or otherwise – sound like a kind of Barmy Army, ostentatiously and jingoistically touring the world for their next fix.

So if I am not contra Wagner tonight, I am definitely contra cultist. Besottedness is a condition I try to resist – even with those artists I most esteem – the ones who help me to live.