Story 493: An Extra Ticket

Relative 1: (Answers ringing phone) Hi, what’s up?

Relative 2: Hey!  So, you doing anything on Saturday?

Relative 1: Uh, don’t think so; why?

Relative 2: Well, the siblings and I want to go see the opera that day and there’s a family group discount thing that can be applied for a minimum of four people but there’s only three of us and no one else we called so far can go that day and we don’t want to get a fourth ticket if no one’s actually going to use it and it’s a really good deal but no worries since you’re our favorite cousin we’ll pay for your ticket and whaddya say?

Relative 1: Yeah, I don’t like opera.       

Relative 2: Perfect!  We’ll have great seats – second row orchestra if they haven’t been snatched up by some other family party yet – and we’ll even get your bus and subway tickets for there and back plus throw in lunch `cause you’re doing us such a huge favor.

Relative 1: …But I don’t like opera.

Relative 2: Awesome!  Show starts at 1:00; we’ll pick you up at 9:30 to give us enough time to get to the city and eat; you’re the best; see you then; byeeeeeeee!!!!!  (Ends the call)

Relative 1: (Still holding the phone) …But I don’t like opera.

 SATURDAY

(In the opera house, Relatives 1-4 find their seats in second row orchestra)

Relative 3: (As they all sit) Wow, this is terrific!  We’re so close we’ll be able to see when they miss their marks!

Relative 4: (To Relative 2) You really did get some of the best seats!

Relative 2: (Chuckles humbly) Well, it’s all thanks to you-know-who-here – (Gestures to Relative 1) who so graciously came along with us today so we could get these at an almost-reasonable price.

Relative 1: (Hunched over with arms and legs crossed) Yeah; so how long’s this thing?

Relative 3: Ooh, I saw that in the program…. (Flips through the pages) Ah, here: five hours and 20 minutes.

Relative 1: (Uncrosses limbs) WHAT?!

Relative 3: Oh don’t worry, that’s counting the two intermissions that’re 40 minutes long each.

Relative 4: Lots of scenery to build up and break down between acts, you know.  Plus the singers need to rest after screaming at each other and throwing themselves across the stage for over an hour.

Relative 1: (To Relative 2) You didn’t say anything about this thing being almost a quarter of a day long!

Relative 2: Sorry, I thought you knew this particular work was an especially lengthy one.

Relative 1: Why would I?!  I DON’T LIKE OPERA!

Relative 2: First I’m hearing of it.

Relative 3: (As the house lights dim) Ssh-ssh, it’s starting!

Relative 1: (Hissing to Relative 2) And how am I supposed to understand what’s going on when the entire thing’s recited in a language I never learned?!

Relative 2: (Points to panels with buttons on the back of the seats in front of them) You can pull up English subtitles here – now, enjoy the drama!

Relative 1: (Pushes buttons until the English subtitles appear as the conductor takes the podium to applause; mutters) Can’t believe I have to work in order to watch something.  (The overture begins) …At least the music’s decent.

 FIRST INTERMISSION

(The house lights come on again as nearly everyone in the audience stands to stretch)

Relative 4: Golly, this production is fantastic!

Relative 3: Definitely!  I mean, of course the singers and musicians are phenomenal, but those sets!  What a bold choice for them to relocate the action from 18^th-century Venice to a 50^th-century spaceship headed for the Andromeda Galaxy!

Relative 2: Right, and the costumes now being astronaut suits, except one character I think is supposed to be an inhabitant of the planet the main cast landed on so that one’s just in shorts and a T-shirt.

Relative 4: Oh, I thought that character was just the crew’s boss.

Relative 3: Ooh, and replacing the original story’s swords with ray guns?  Brilliant.

Relative 2: (To Relative 1) So, what do you think?

Relative 1: (Staring at the curtain covering the stage) I’m… not sure.

Relative 2: How do you mean?

Relative 1: It’s just… is the main character really out to avenge the family members who were tragically lost, or is the objective actually interplanetary colonization?

Relative 2: Oh, well, the original story was the vengeance angle, but you may be right that this new version added another layer of meaning to everything else going on.

Relative 4: Lyrics are all still the same, though; they held up surprisingly well over the centuries.

Relative 1: (As the house lights dim to start Act 2) Yeah… surprising….

 SECOND INTERMISSION

(The house lights come on again as nearly everyone in the audience stands to stretch)

Relative 1: (Bawling) I don’t understand – why can’t those two spend the rest of their lives together?!

Relative 2: (Also bawling) Duty!  Honor!  The Family!  Pick one!

Relative 1: But the musical cues make it seem like they’re perfect for each other!

Relative 3: (Also bawling) That’s what makes it all the more tragic!

Relative 4: (Also bawling) That and the destruction of Earth and the collateral damage from invasion – but those parts were added just to this version.

Relative 1: I don’t think I can take much more of this!

Relative 2: It’s all right; only two hours to go.

Relative 1: Arrrgggghhhhh!!!

 TWO HOURS LATER

(The cast and orchestra members bow to standing ovations)

Relatives 2-4: (Applauding wildly) Yaaaaaayyyy!!!!

Relative 1: (Applauding wildly while sobbing) You all broke my heart!  Every last one of you!

(Outside the opera house, Relatives 1-4 walk to the nearest subway station)

Relative 4: That was amazing!

Relative 3: Totally!   So glad we got to do this.

Relative 2: Yes, a great day out – (To Relative 1) wouldn’t you say?

Relative 1: (Emerging from being deep in thought) Hm?  Oh, yeah, great.

Relative 2: Sooooo, did you wind up liking it in spite of yourself?

Relative 1: (Stops walking to stare at Relative 2, who also stops) I can’t get the music out of my head.  The singers’ performances will haunt me to the end of my days.  I will never be moved by anything as much as what I experienced just now.  Opera has invaded my soul and claimed me as its own – help me, help me!

Relative 2: (To Relatives 3 and 4) Oh dear, I think we created a monster.

Relative 3: Hey, don’t knock it: the arts'll take all the support they can get these days.

Story 354: The Voice of Reason in a Tragic Opera

            Time: The Past – Somewhere around the 1400s to 1600s

            Place: Generic Western European Kingdom

         Characters: King, Queen, Their 15 Children Who All Hate Each Other and Their Parents, Lord #1 Who Loves the King But Loves the Throne More, Lord #2 Who Loves the Queen But Loves Himself More, Old Duke Who Was a Father to Them All and Is Outraged at How Awful They All Turned Out, Assassin Who Appears Occasionally to Move the Plot Along, Rival Queen Who Wants to Annex the Country Without Their Permission, Jester Who Is the Lone Voice of Reason in This Whole Mess, and Various Nobles, Guards, Soldiers, Entourage, and Other Riffraff

            All dialogue is sung.

ACT I

         (The curtain opens on the palace’s throne room filled with most of the main characters, all gathered to witness the Exposition Dump)

            Ensemble: <Exposition Dump!>

            King: <I just want to take this moment to announce: I love how rich and powerful I am.>

        Queen: <I second that!  We are living in Heaven on Earth and nothing can disrupt our happiness!>

            15 Children: <Plot – connive – scheme – whine – >

          Eldest Child: <I speak for myself and all my siblings when I say that we have everything anyone could ever want, but that is garbage because we want the throne now, waaaaaah!>

         Jester: <Why would you want the burden of protecting thousands of people and dealing with their constant skirmishes and complaints?>

            Eldest Child: <Shut up, Fool!>

            Jester: (To King and Queen) <Majesties, you may want to keep an eye on and possibly lock up your plotting children.>

            King and Queen: <Shut up, Fool!>

            Jester: <Sigh.>

          Lord #1: <Your Majesties, that Rival Queen who recently tried to invade is trying to invade again but in a different spot this time, hoping we will not notice.>

            King: <Ah me, whatever is to be done?>

           Queen: <Aside – I hope my Peasant Lover did not chance to be in that same area and is now horribly invaded!>

            King: <You didn’t Aside properly – I heard everything.>

            Queen: <Curses!>

            King: <Quite all right: I was thinking the exact same thing about my Peasant Lover, so we are on the same page with that.>

            Queen: <Felicity!>

            Jester: <Majesties, might I propose – like I did during the first invasion – that you send orders to our soldiers to meet this threat and also investigate the rest of the border to make sure no one sneaks in anywhere else?>

           King: <Shut up, Fool!> (Jester tosses away scepter in defeat) <Lord #1, go send soldiers to meet this threat and also investigate the rest of the border.>

           Lord #1: <As you wish, Sire.  Aside – with the soldiers all gone, this will be the perfect chance to seize the throne from my best friend in the whole world, bwahahahaa!>

            King: <You didn’t Aside properly either, you know.>

            Lord #1: <Oops.>

            King: <Indeed.> (To Guards) <Off with my best friend’s head, would you?>

         Lord #1: (Dragged off-stage by Guards) <And I only wanted absolute power over everyone’s lives, alassssssss!>

            King: <And that is that.  Now what is for lunch?>

          Queen: <There is no time for something that mundane in an epic such as this!  We have a plot to advance and human emotion to drown in!>

            King: <But I want a sandwich.>

            Lord #2: <Your Majesty, might I suggest we flee to a remote little palace where we can sit out all this hullabaloo in decadent comfort and sweet, sweet love that can only be found in each other’s arms?>

            King: <That sounds like an excellent idea – lead the way.>

            Lord #2: <I actually was addressing the Queen.>

            Queen: <Well, then that sounds like an excellent idea – lead the way.> (Begins to exit on the arm of Lord #2)

            King: <Halt!> (They freeze; he points to the Queen) <You – stay by my side.>

            Queen: (Grudgingly returns to the King’s side) <Tyrannical patriarch.>

            King: (Points to Lord #2) <You – can go get your head removed now.>

            Lord #2: <Actually, it was all a joke, you are all too serious around here, tee-hee-hee – flee!> (Jumps out the window)

            Queen: <My false love!  What horror!>

            King: <Eh, have better taste next time.>

            Queen: <Yes dear, you are quite right.>

           Jester: <Majesties, word in the hamlet is that the invading army is only a day’s ride away – perhaps we should relocate to safety?  As in, right now?>

            King: <Shut – oh right, I already agreed to this plan, let’s go.> (The Nobles and Guards exit en masse to signify that the entire court has packed up and evacuated in under 30 seconds)

            Old Duke: (Stands center stage, alone) <Where did I go wrong with this bunch?> (Assassin runs in and stabs him) <What the blazes was that?!> (Dies)

           Assassin: (Toes the body and stares closer at the face) <Hold on, did I just get the wrong guy?>

CURTAIN

ACT II

            (Curtain opens on an equally ornate palace (same set, with a few pieces of furniture shifted around); the entire court is present, minutes the ones who departed, willingly or otherwise, as of Act I)

            Queen: <Right, Good People, we will be safe here until this little dustup blows over, by this afternoon the latest.>

            King: (Hisses) That was my line!

            Queen: (Grimaces) Sorry – misheard the prompter.

          Eldest Child: <I speak for myself and all my siblings when I ask whether we can take the throne when we get back home, please?>

            14 Children: <Yeah!  You never give us anything!>

            King: <I am most uncertain whether I loathe you all because of this behavior or in spite of it>

            Queen: <I must say, they are your children.>

         Jester: <Majesties, perhaps if they had been given more responsibilities when they were younger in overseeing the kingdom they will one day rule – >

            15 Children: <Shut up, Fool!>

            Jester: <That non-response is becoming very tiresome.>

            Eldest Child: <Why ever would we want to work, we just want to rule!>

            Jester: <Un-believable.>

            Eldest Child: (To King) <So, back to my original question – >

            King: <Over my dead body!>

          Assassin: (Pops out from behind the throne) <That’s my cue!> (Stabs the King and runs away unimpeded by the flabbergasted court; is tripped by the Jester)

            Jester: (Sitting on Assassin’s legs) <Treason!>

            Assassin: <It is not treason if I am working for the other side; it would be treason if I did not go through with it, then.>

            Jester: <Fair point.>

            King: (Lying on the ground surrounded by the wailing court) <Alack!  To be cut down in the prime of my old age!>

            Queen: (Kneeling next to the King) <Despair!  My one current love!>

            15 Children: <Oh, Father!  Cursed be the hand that took you out before we could!>

            Ensemble: <Folly!>

            King: <Not quite an appropriate response.>

            Ensemble: <Horror?>

            King: <That is better – use that one.>

            Ensemble: <Horror!>

            King: <Sweet.  Mourn me while I am still alive to hear it, my pitiful subjects!>

            (Rival Queen enters on a grand chariot, surrounded by Entourage)

           Rival Queen: <Aha!  I see my loyal servant’s work is done and the way has been cleared for my usurpation!  (Jumps off the chariot and lassoes the throne) <Yoink!>

            Queen: (Stands) <Oi!  I am still here!>

            Rival Queen: <Please – you are just his queen.  I am The Queen!>

            Queen: (Kneels again) <I concede the point.>

            15 Children: (Forming a line in front of the Rival Queen) <You still must contend with us and our mighty thirst for power!>

            Eldest Child: <Yield, false pretender!>

            Rival Queen: <That is redundant and therefore self-contradictory.> (Flicks Eldest Child on the brow; the latter falls down weeping.  The other 14 Children run away and drag Eldest Child with them) <Anyone else?> (The remainder of the unnamed court flee)

            King: (Lying in a growing pool of red food coloring) <I am – still – alive – >

           Rival Queen: <So?  If you actually do survive this, you would be useless: no one will follow you now that you were sucker stabbed, so buzz off!> (Hops onto the throne and stretches out across it)

           Jester: (Kicks away Assassin and subserviently approaches the Rival Queen) <New Majesty, might I ask a favor?>

        Rival Queen: <I am in no mood to keep around leftovers from the previous administration, but proceed.>

            Jester: <As you can see, I worked as a jester with that bunch – >

            Rival Queen: <Then you have five seconds to make me laugh.>

          Jester: < – however, my hidden job description was to speak the truth and dispense advice, which no one has ever listened to – >

            King: (Perks up) <Of course we did!  All the time!>

            Queen: <I always took your advice, you revisionist historian!>

           Jester: <If you had, then this one – > (Gestures at the Rival Queen) < – would not be sitting here right now>

            Rival Queen: <Ha!  Losers.>

            Jester: <So, I wish to ask for a place in your court, but as an advisor rather than as a jester.>

         Assassin: (Sitting on the floor and rubbing circulation back into legs) <Now that is treason!>

            Jester: <Not if the last group is no longer in power.>

            Assassin: <Got it.>

            Rival Queen: (To Jester) <Prove yourself, then.>

           Jester: <I told this crew to confront your army and defend the border back when you invaded the first time.>

            Rival Queen: <You’re hired.>

           King: <Alack!  That it has come to this!  Our former employee, joining the competition and receiving an unexpected promotion!> (Dies)

         Queen: <Woe is me!  Our Heaven on Earth, utterly destroyed by a change in management!  If only we had listened to the Fool would we have been ironically wise!> (Dies because there is nothing else for her to do now)

          Rival Queen: <Well that tidies up everything nicely.  Now, Advisor, what do you recommend my first act as legitimate tyrant of this stolen realm be?>

           Former Jester: <Clean up the damage from your invasion and help your subjects’ lives be better than they were before.>

          Rival Queen: <Sounds reasonable.> (Stands with raised sword in hand) <To the restoration!>

            Entourage: <Huzzah!>

            Former Jester: <And that is how you have a happy ending in a tragedy.>

CURTAIN

Story 341: Pitfalls in Collaboration

[Inspired by The Metropolitan Opera and its recent Nightly Opera Streams at www.metopera.org]

            (In an office, an opera house’s Artistic Director sits at a desk facing Composer and Librettist)

            Artistic Director: All right, you two: when I commissioned you to create the best opera ever, I meant I wanted one where the audience will laugh, cry, roar, and swoon, preferably in that order.  And instead, I’m getting a half-completed work that makes me want to chuck the entire orchestra at you.  What in the name of bel canto’s going on?!

            Composer: First of all – did you hear the music yet?

            Librettist: (Slumps in the chair) Ugh, here we go.

          Composer: (To Artistic Director) I would like to take this moment to emphasize that my portion of this work is done, by the way – I even finished the orchestration months ago.

            Artistic Director: Then why are you two telling me it’s not done?

          Librettist: (Rolls eyes) Somebody feels that the lyrics need to “match the tone set by the music,” whatever that means.

            Artistic Director: It means the lyrics should convey the same themes as the music.

            Librettist: I know what it means!                                      

            Artistic Director: What?

         Librettist: My libretto is perfect as it is; it’s based off the book you – (Points to Artistic Director) chose, and it’s got everything you could ever want: hot people in love, random shenanigans, loud misunderstandings that go on for hours, and societal rebels refusing to live lives of oppressive regular salaries, so I fail to see what the problem is.

            Composer: (To Artistic Director) OK, first: you’ve heard the music?

            Artistic Director: Yes, we’ve established that.

            Composer: And you’ve noted how absolutely glorious it is?

           Artistic Director: Well, a tear or two did threaten, and my heart struggled to beat a few times, so I think it’s safe to say that “glorious” is an acceptable adjective.

         Composer: Thank you.  Now, with that in mind: have you read the lyrics set to this awe-inspiring masterpiece of sound?

            Artistic Director: Well, sort-of – it’s been hard to keep up with all the revisions.

            Composer: (Flips through pages of the score) Uh-huh, uh-huh – OK, here’s the latest from Act 1, the aria I wrote for the lead tenor.  (Hands a few pages to the Artistic Director) Note the soaring strings that sound like grown human beings weeping?

            Artistic Director: (Scans through the pages) Oh yes, I like this one a lot.

            Composer: Uh-huh – and do you see the words paired with these sublime notes?

            Artistic Director: (Reads some more) He’s talking about what he does during his day?

            Composer: Yes!  He soars to the heavens about going out to pick up the newspaper!

            Librettist: What’s your point?

            Artistic Director: It does seem a bit trivial for such majestic instrumentation.

            Composer: Thank you!

         Librettist: What do you expect?  It’s a day in the life – the whole thing’s populated with mooning adult children living in self-inflicted poverty and falling in love with completely incompatible randos – Billy Shakespeare wrote reams on the same subjects, and everybody loved him for it!

            Composer: His words were divine poetry!  Yours don’t even rhyme!

            Librettist: Most of the audience members don’t even speak the language I’m writing in – they just want it to sound good.

            Composer: They’ll know when they read the subtitles that it’s all trite!   Here – (Flips through more pages and hands a bunch to Artistic Director) love duet in Act 2.  Tell me what you think.

            Artistic Director: (Scans through the pages, humming the notes of a romantic tune, then stops) Wait, do these two people even know each other?

            Composer: They just met in Act 1!  Which took place 20 minutes earlier!

          Librettist: Duh, it’s called “Love at first sight,” haven’t you ever heard of a little something called Romeo and Juliet?

           Artistic Director: You really should stop comparing yourself to an icon; it never works out in your favor.

            Librettist: Noted.

          Composer: My point is, I wrote that piece for two lovers who have the intimacy that comes from shared years and memories, and this one – (Points thumb at Librettist) has them gibbering on about how the Sun looks a tad peaked, and ooh, isn’t that a fine rock over there, and oh, what’s your name again?!

            Librettist: All issues that plague the common folk.

           Artistic Director: Hm.  I have to admit, for a transcendent work of art, the stakes here are really low.

           Composer: You have no idea: in Act 3, they have an argument for half an hour over who broke up with the other first, when it turns out they cheated on each for no reason!

            Librettist: Everyone likes a good “Will they or won’t they?” popping up a few times during a story; keeps things fresh.

            Composer: It’s smothering my score!

           Artistic Director: (Hands papers back to the Composer) I have to agree: unless this is a flat-out farce, the audience won’t connect with the characters if they just dither on about who they should dance with, or whether they should stick with the rich lord or the penniless artist when the answer clearly is “Neither,” or what hat they should wear today – they want war; they want royal executions; they want gods and goddesses loudly interfering with mortals’ destines; all that rubbish.

             Librettist: (Sighs dramatically) Fine – you want me to kill one of the lovebirds at the end or something like that?  Give a nice air of tragedy to the whole thing?

            Artistic Director: Ooh, there’s a thought: killing one or both of the romantic leads usually does the trick; it elevates pretty much anything from boring banality to the existential futility of life, with very minimal effort.

            Composer: But if you kill `em off at the end, no one’s gonna know that the whole thing was poetically tragic until the end!

         Librettist: Argh, all right, I’ll give one of them something consistently debilitating, like consumption – that way the singer’ll be stage-coughing throughout so everyone watching’ll know something’s up, happy?

            Composer: Only as long as they don’t upstage the first violins.

            Artistic Director: So it’s settled, then: give just the soprano consumption and throw in some lines about how frail she looks, and then the leads can sing their hearts out about anything trivial they want since life is so fleeting and pointless, and also have the tenor freak out at the end when she dies so the grand finale of cymbals crashing and horns blaring and drums exploding all makes sense, and I can see the audience’s flowing tears now, ahahahaha!

            Librettist: …Sure, I can whip something up.  (To Composer) This mean you’ll shut up about the lyrics now?

          Composer: Would you at least consider throwing in a regicide or people’s uprising while you’re at it?  I really feel like those subjects are more in scale with my work.

            Librettist: Just tell the singers to be coloratura and leggiero to the max, and no one will notice what they’re really talking about.