“I’m counting on you to find a way.Our first performance will be February twenty-first.With the right troupe, I can push rehearsals to the seventh.That gives you twenty days to have it in my hands.”
“You can’t possibly expect to have a troupe established and ready to perform in so short a time.”Success might be possible at one of the smaller, less prestigious music halls, where raw performances were tolerated, but for Graham to risk his reputation on such a grand scale?He hadn’t even heard Ezekiel’s work, let alone tested the mettle of this yet-to-be formed company.
“Not all of the College of Music students are performing in the chorus for the opera festival.I’ve already procured a few of them for my principal singers, and rumor has it several of Soldene’s troupe are quitting.I’m quietly meeting with them over the next few days and hope to pull them in.After having only days to turn aroundOlivette, two weeks to learn and rehearseThe Insurrectionist’s Masqueradewill be nothing.I just need the music to share with them.”
Ezekiel didn’t have a choice.He would have to finish the operetta’s score, and it would have to impress audiences.But how could he compose music when he no longer heard a melody or felt its tempo in his heart?
Chapter Seven
THE WORRY OF FINISHING THEscore for Graham’s libretto couldn’t distract Ezekiel from the job that paid the bills.Thankfully, his position as stage manager thrilled him almost as much as discovering the musical theme for a composition.There was something about organizing chaos into a production people would talk about for days that gave him a sense of satisfaction he couldn’t find anywhere else during this season of life.Each day brought new and different challenges, whether the performance was the same script from the night before or something new.This week, the Soldene Opera Company performed a different opera every night, each one with its own set and costumes.It never ceased to amaze Ezekiel how the cast kept all their lines straight.He’d be lost without his prompt book that helped him track the score and all the behind-the-scenes cues.
While Miss Soldene acted as stage manager for her company, she was also a principal vocalist, and she couldn’t run everything from the wings.It had been a challenge to keep up with her directions as they ran through this morning’s rehearsal ofLa Fille de Madame Angotbefore his visit to Ma.Even the cast had struggled, but only enough for them to feel certain tonight’s performance would go splendidly.Of all the superstitions permeating opera life, this one came true most often.A bad dress rehearsal tended to indicate a successful opening night.Of course, he attributed that to the cast’s extra vigilance during the production, but still, the superstition made his job easier.
With an hour before calling the house open and the final rush to get everything and everyone in order, Ezekiel sought the greenroom, where performers and stagehands lounged.He’d learned early on in his career to ensure no one imbibed before the show.Once, a drunken actor had stumbled off the stage into the orchestra pit, breaking a violin and causing injury to more than himself.The dressing-down Ezekiel received from Crosley had been enough for him to create and enforce a strict no-alcohol-before-a-performance rule.What the cast did after the show was up to them, but until then, sobriety must be adhered to—even if a few insisted a glass or two assuaged their nerves.
When he entered the large room, only a smattering of cast members hung about.Four rehearsed lines and movements in the large open space while Emily Soldene and Rose Stella sat together, fussing over a costume.The low table in front of them held tepid tea with honey and lemon, a before-show ritual Miss Stella insisted warmed the vocal cords and coated the throat.The plate of fruit, cheese, and nuts had been picked over by those who preferred something small to eat in the hours leading up to the performance.Most chose to wait until afterward to eat, but Ezekiel tried his best to keep everyone happy.Nerves ran high enough, and he had no desire to deal with more contention than necessary.
In a chair off by himself, a tenor knocked back a small flask.Of course.Someone always had to be the rule-breaker.He should have guessed it would be Adam Adler.As a man with a thinning band of gray hair, Adler should be well enough along in years to know the dangers of drunkenness on a stage, especially when blind in one eye.During rehearsal, he had misjudged the distance to the edge of the stage and would have toppled off if another actor hadn’t stopped him.
“You know the rule.No drinking before the show.”Ezekiel stood over the older man, arms folded.
Adler twisted the cap and tucked the flask inside his wrinkled costume coat.“A little swig never hurt anyone.”Thankfully, his Britishaccent came out unhindered.“Besides, the stuff’s so weak I could drink the whole thing without turning tipsy.”
“Still, the rule stands.Miss Soldene may ignore your behavior, but I will not.If I catch you drinking again, you’ll not be working on my stage.”
“When you’ve been at this as long as I have, you’ll be taking swigs yourself.Did you hear Miss Soldene is demanding a full rehearsal ofOlivettetonight, directly after the close ofMadame Angot?Her demands are enough to send a man to Bedlam.”
Ezekiel had heard the news upon his nearly late return this afternoon.He almost regretted visiting Ma instead of taking a nap.By the time tonight’s show finished and they rehearsed afterward, it would be close to three in the morning.With another early-hour rehearsal tomorrow, it would be a miracle if he and the cast didn’t collapse from exhaustion during the evening performance.But this was theatre life, and Ezekiel wouldn’t give it up unless the good Lord dropped the curtain on him.
Adler lowered his voice and jerked his chin toward Miss Soldene and Miss Stella.“And don’t let those two fool you.They’ve been at it again.They’re thick as thieves, if you take it to mean they’re waiting for the first opportunity to stab the other in the back.”
Ezekiel was no stranger to infighting.He’d been managing stages for three years and working in opera houses in various roles for ten.Every traveling troupe who’d passed under his care had behaved like family—both in their support of each other and the occasional friction.He loved being a part of it, if only temporarily.No other profession would allow him to meet so many people, hear their stories, and learn what drove them to leave loved ones behind and gamble their financial security and reputations for a job that was unpredictable, even for the best.
He checked his watch.He didn’t have a lot of time, but he’d yet to hear Adler’s story.Nor had he asked anyone about Constanza Brisbane.He settled into the chair next to Adler.
“If working with Miss Soldene is so difficult, why continue?”
“It’s getting harder to find someone who will take me on, but I’m not ready to give it up.”Adler leaned back and crossed a leg.“Stage life opens opportunities with people you’d never have access to any other way.You become a curiosity.A mystery.When you can sing or act, the wealthy and influential will ignore your undesirable reputation and treat you like royalty.They wine and dine you, shower you with gifts, and invite you to their homes, all so they can taste the wild life we live without soiling their own reputations.If I didn’t like the benefits so much, I’d take umbrage at the snobbery of it all.”
“Do you often get these invitations?”
“Not anymore, but when I owned my own touring troupe in England, I was more popular than Queen Victoria.Of course, that was thirty years ago, when I was more visually appealing.Had a better voice then too.Indulging in these has not earned me any favors.”He pulled a cigar from his pocket and ran it under his nose as he drew a long whiff.He released it with anahhh, then continued.“Those were the days.My girls were the best.They could sing and dance and work the crowd into rapturous admiration of their voicesandtheir figures.Men tripped over themselves to meet them, and I knew how to leverage that desire for our financial benefit.”He fell silent, rolling the cigar between his fingers and smirking like those memories held a world of secrets.
Ezekiel hated to think how Adler might have “leveraged desire,” but not everything in opera was as scandalous as portrayed to the public.Performers often exaggerated or insinuated things to garner a reaction and encourage ticket sales.
Adler shook free of his woolgathering.“Egad, I miss those days.”
“What happened to your company?”
“One of my girls betrayed us and left us embroiled in a ruinous scandal.”His face went red, and the cigar snapped in half beneath his grip.“It took me ten years to claw my way free of the gutters, come here, and start over.I didn’t have the capital to start another company, so I’ve been relegated to chorus bits and the occasional supporting role in whatever troupe will take me.Miss Soldene is only the latest, and I’m beginning to regret the choice.”
It was no secret the members of the Soldene Opera Company were working at half salary and had been for quite some time.This week’s success had quieted the rumors of the company’s imminent failure, and Ezekiel had heard Miss Soldene herself make promises of their luck turning.
“If you’ve been in America for twenty years, did you ever work with Constanza Brisbane?”
Adler’s full attention snapped toward Ezekiel.“Constanza Brisbane?I haven’t heard that name since it disappeared from the stage.”
“You’ve heard the name, but did you know her?”
