In Grinzing we sampled the heurige, the new wine, in a garden overhung with vines, to the music of Johann Strauss.  With apologies to the composer of Rosenkavalier the saying ‘If Strauss, let it be Johann; if Richard, let it be Wagner’ never seemed more apt, for we ended up with an impromptu Meistersinger evening at the Hutterstrassers’, the charming family who ran Bösendorfer’s piano showrooms, where I used to practise.  At this party I seated myself at the piano with the vocal score, everyone looking over my shoulder and joining in the bits they could manage; but to make amends to the other Richard I played two of the Four Last Songs for Elisabeth Schwarzkopf on another informal occasion later in the week, probably their first performance in Vienna.