Would your enjoyment of Caruso be increased if he sang in English the ridiculous stuff he sings in Italian?
Fortunate it is for most grand opera that we do not understand—we are not diverted from the music by the nonsense of the libretto.
The enjoyment of music is a curious thing.
First of all, there are all kinds of music, from rag-time to Beethoven, and each kind has its following.
Then the following of each kind breaks up into its rag-time and Beethoven divisions.
That is to say, in an audience listening to rag-time there are always a few who enjoy the music in a Beethoven way—for what there is of real value in it.
While in an audience listening to a Beethoven symphony there are always a goodly number, often a big majority, who enjoy it in a rag-time way—just the emotional reaction, without knowing a thing about the music.
There are two entirely distinct enjoyments of the same composition—the purely intellectual and the purely emotional. There may be a mingling of the two, but as a rule what one gains the other loses.
The man who follows the score, is familiar with the different interpretations of this and that leader, whose ear catches every failure by any part of the orchestra to respond, and so on, and so on—that man is constantly holding his emotional response subject to his intellectual appreciation. What is a fine performance to most of the audience may be a very indifferent performance to him.
True, when the performance is so fine it carries him off his feet, then he gets an enjoyment—intellectual and emotional—far finer than the enjoyment experienced by others. In a sense, he is the one man worth playing for.