May 1880, Paris
"You're not still studying those, are you?"
Armel's voice jolted her from her seat, knocking her reduced score to the floor.
"Stop frightening me like that," Lisette Geiger muttered, scooping the music back into her arms.
"Sorry," he said, taking a seat next to her. The pair were settled in the auditorium of the Palais Garnier, watching as the stage hands pushed set pieces into place and lowered backdrops. This afternoon was one of the final rehearsals before they had their closing performances of Massenet's La roi de Lahore. It was a strange thing for her to think about. In her three years working at the Palais Garnier, this was only the second opera she'd been a part of. However, this was her first performance as the prima pianist and she could feel her heart racing in her chest as she glanced at the challenging music in her arms, fearing the rehearsal that was to happen in an hour.
"You need to relax," Armel assured. "Carlotta isn't nearly as terrifying as others make her out to be."
"I'm not afraid of Carlotta," she scoffed, tossing her braid over her shoulder. "It's Maestro and the managers I'm worried about. Monsieur Poligny is dedicated to that woman and will agree to her faster than you have time to open your mouth. And Maestro is too soft spoken to dare argue against the managers."
Armel shrugged. "It will be your first rehearsal with the vocalists. Everyone else will understand even if Carlotta doesn't."
His words didn't make her feel any better, but she took comfort knowing that the Piangi, the lead tenor, would be there who was much kinder in his criticism than Carlotta ever could be.
"You're a bassoonist," she teased. "You wouldn't understand."
He laughed. "You're right, I wouldn't, and thank goodness for that."
They fell into silence, hearing the boisterous commands of the chief stage manager, Joseph Buquet, as they began to move about props for the beginning of Act II, what the general ensemble would be rehearsing. Before coming to Paris, she'd had experience of sitting in rehearsals in the opera house in Dresden, where rehearsals were in the morning so the cast and orchestra could have a break in case of evening performances the same day. The prima donna in Dresden had been a much more gracious woman compared to the spoiled and conceited La Carlotta who was the resident leading soprano at the Palais Garnier. She blatantly refused to show up for morning rehearsals for years, but the current managers, Monsieur Debienne and Poligny, were so dependent on her popularity within the opera goers in Paris that they insisted on adjusting the opera house's entire schedule rather than risk losing her. Lisette could never understand what these Parisians found so endearing about her. Her voice was past its prime, wobbly and flat unless the orchestra adjusted to her intonation, and her voice was simply loud with no sense of musical phrasing or shape. The orchestra often made jokes about her in their rehearsals without the cast and Maestro Reyer was known to roll his eyes so far back when she criticized them that his eyeballs were in danger of falling out of his skull.
"I need to go warm-up," she said, struggling to balance her score in her arms. "I'll see you tomorrow for the full orchestra rehearsal."
"Good luck," Armel called, slicking his jet-black hair against his head as he spoke.
She left the auditorium, dodging cleaning maids and valets who were milling about the Grand Staircase in preparation for tomorrow's closing night. She tried to ignore the heavy weight that seemed to have settled in the pit of her stomach as she made her way to the ensemble room upstairs.
It was only her first month as the prima pianist for the Palais Garnier. Two months ago, she had still been the seconda pianist, only responsible for doubling parts in the orchestra and filling in on performances when the primo pianist had other obligations. But he had retired suddenly at the end of March, not leaving the Palais Garnier time to hire another pianist, making Lisette the sole keyboardist in the opera house. It was the first time in Paris that a woman had been given the opportunity as the prima pianist for the Paris Opera Company and she was determined to not let anybody think they'd done wrong by giving her this job. Today was her first day having a rehearsal with the leads of the opera, customary before a large ensemble rehearsal. However, she'd only been told about it two days prior, giving her little time to practice the reduced score she'd been handed. Maestro Reyer and the primo tenor, bass, and mezzo-soprano were very forgiving, often admitting to their own mistakes themselves. La Carlotta was an entirely different subject. She demanded perfection, often believing she never performed wrong despite what others might say and often ridiculed those who she thought messed her up or weren't performing to her standards. Lisette had been fortunate until now to never personally work with the proud soprano and she wondered of how her impression might be altered after their meeting today.
Maestro Reyer was waiting in the ensemble room upstairs, his gray hair slightly out of his place and his mustache ruffled from twisting the ends of it so much. He was an elderly gentleman and one of the finest musicians she had ever met. This was his nineteenth season with the Paris Opera Company and was highly respected within the country of France. She curtsied before settling herself at the piano, warming her fingers up while Reyer practiced conducting through Act IV and V which they were to run through with the lead singers in just a few moments. She tried to take deep breaths as she let her scales and arpeggios dance beneath her fingers, trying to reassure herself that she was overthinking the entire rehearsal and it would be over in just a couple of hours.
The rehearsal started with an aria from Piangi, playing the lead male role of Alim. Carlotta was nowhere to be found but the maestro didn't seem concerned as well as the others. It wasn't until they reached the beginning of Act V, nearly an hour later, when Reyer showed his frustration.
"Where the devil is she?" he asked, wiping sweat from his brow. "I specifically said rehearsal was to begin at one o'clock and it's nearly two! Closing night will be a disaster! Monsieur Massenet himself will be there?"
"Massenet?" Lisette said quietly, referring to the composer of Le roi de Lahore.
"Yes, Mademoiselle Geiger," he answered. "He hasn't attended a single performance of this opera since its opening night nearly two years ago! We'll be ruined if we don't master these acts. We've got a new mezzo for the performance, a new pianist, and ballerinas who can hardly tie their shoes. I don't know what Debienne was thinking by extending the performances for this long!"
Just as he finished his speech, they heard Carlotta's heavy Spanish accent ringing through the walls. Piangi seemed to be the only person who lit up at the sound of her voice, while everyone else seemed to either shudder or scowl. She entered the room wearing an extravagant green dress, covered in gold thread and fake jewels on the sleeves. Her dark hair was pulled into a tall and elegant up-do, fashioned with green feathers and a velvet hat, dangerously close to dipping over her eyes. If others thought her singing voice was hard to listen to, they had never heard her shrill speaking voice. She never spoke softly, merely barking orders at those who surrounded her, expecting compliance on a whim. She traveled with her small dog, an annoying little thing which would never stop yapping, and her attendant who was an ugly, plump woman that carried a bottle of rum in her dress.
"Señora," Reyer said darkly, barely bowing to her. "We were just beginning to start Act V."
"No, no," Carlotta said, removing the gloves on her hands. "I'm here to go over Act II."
Lisette stiffened. She hadn't been prepared to play Act II. Reyer had informed her it would just be Act IV and V for their rehearsal today. She was able to play the piano part for Act II she had in her own personal score she used within the orchestra, but she hadn't a chance to look at Act II in the reduced score she'd been given just two days before.
"Señora," Reyer said, slicking back his hair and stepping towards her, "I've called these fine musicians here to rehearse Act IV and V. We desperately need the rehearsal time because we will not have much time to rehearse these sections when we're with the entire ensemble."
"Bah!" the prima donna exclaimed, waving his comment away. "Act II, I command it!"
Lisette stiffened as Carlotta came by the piano, her strong perfume filling up the room and she did her best from covering her nose with her hand. With shaking fingers, she opened to Sita's aria in Act II and began to play, trying to stay calm as she sight read.
Despite what she claimed, Carlotta was not a strong literary musician, and therefore had a hard time criticizing others if she could not read or understand the notes that were on the page before her. Lisette was aware that if she did stumble, Carlotta would have a hard time pointing out exactly what notes were played incorrectly.
The aria began as a short recitative, with the prima donna's barking voice turned into barking singing before elating into song. Lisette winced as they entered the second page of the aria. Why did Massenet write so much of this song in Carlotta's passagio? It sounded terrible and just by looking at the soprano's expression, it was evident she was struggling with the difficult passage.
Massenet's Le roi de Lahore had a French libretto, making it easy for audiences to understand the plot of the complicated storyline. Carlotta played the role of Sita, a priestess in Lahore, who is in love with King Alim, played by Piangi. Scindia, the minister to the king, is also in love with Sita and demands she be released from her vows after meeting with King Alim in secret. Act II was focused on Sita camping near a battle where King Alim is fighting and promised to return to her later. This aria was supposed to be a declaration of love and well-being for the king by Sita, but Carlotta's voice made these words of love seem solemn and disregarded as hardly any emotion crossed her face.
Reyer cut Lisette off, rapping his baton on his music stand. "Señora," he said with a sigh, "More emotion, please! This is the height of dear Sita's character and Monsieur Massenet's favorite aria in the opera."
"Maestro," Carlotta spat, smacking her hand on the piano lid, "I will decide what emotions I think are appropriate. If Señor Massenet intended on showing emotion in this scene, he should have written it down in his performance instructions!"
"The emotion is in the words, madame," Lisette said meekly.
She instantly regretted speaking up, for Carlotta's eyes flickered dangerously and she turned so her back was to Lisette, looking at the other vocalists who were sitting with their personal vocal scores in their laps, staring wide eyed at the maestro, pianist, and soprano.
"Ubaldo!" Carlotta exclaimed, pointing a finger at Piangi, "Do I not give enough emotion?"
"Oh course, darling," the tenor replied, daring a look at Reyer while he spoke.
"You see?" Carlotta spat at Reyer. "My Ubaldo agrees that what I am doing is just fine. Why don't you leave yourself to the conducting, Maestro, and I'll focus on the performing!"
Lisette could see Reyer gritting his teeth through thin, pursed lips, raising his arms once more to begin the aria.
If there had been little emotion in the first run through, there was none the second time through. By the time the aria was over, Carlotta looked decidedly pleased with herself as she took a seat, instantly demanding to be fanned by her attendant. Jean Laselle, the primo baritone who was portraying Scindia, stood and began his recitative of beginning a coup with Alim's soldiers. As he began singing, Lisette instantly relaxed, admiring the man's beautiful phrasing, clear diction, and easiness of manner. However, she couldn't help but feel Carlotta's eyes on her during the rest of the rehearsal, making her blush furiously.
At the end of rehearsal, she lingered at the piano while the rest of the ensemble left, chattering away about preparations for the full rehearsal in just a few hours. She massaged her wrists, careful to check if she'd been playing with any tension. During the height of performance season, such as now, she often found herself playing eight to ten hours a day. She never complained though. Many women could only dream of the opportunities she had. She was a professional musician that was paid and salaried. During her time at the Paris Conservatoire, she had been told over and over that she should not expect much upon graduating. Her professors and teachers even recommended she take up composition and write underneath a male pseudonym, but she knew she was destined to perform.
Being a pianist was the perfect opportunity for someone like Lisette who was shy and hated being the center of attention. She didn't much like performing solo piano works unless it was to private audiences to people she was intimate with, but being a pianist in an orchestra like the Paris Opera Company or being an accompanist like she'd been during this afternoon's rehearsal was exactly the kind of challenge she enjoyed. She found music was never quite satisfactory unless she was collaborating with other people to create it, but during times like these, it was always trying to remain positive when working around the same people all the time.
Avoiding the crowd of ballerinas and chorus members which were gossiping and preparing for their upcoming rehearsal, she ducked backstage to a private corner where she could mark her score for the spots that were still troubling her in Act IV. Absentmindedly twirling the end of her braid in her fingertips, she chewed on the end of her pen, her brow furrowed as she looked among the many arpeggios that littered the page she was looking at it. The noise in the background seemed to disappear until a hand appeared on top of her score, startling her.
She jumped, bringing a hand to her heart as she looked into a pair of pale, blue eyes.
"Meg!" she scolded, "Don't do that! You know how easy it is to get me started."
"And that's exactly why I do it," the young ballerina exclaimed, sitting herself next to Lisette.
Meg Giry was one of the oldest girls in the ballet corps and the closest to Lisette's age. Meg was seventeen, thin and strong with thick muscled legs and a slender upper body. She had golden hair that tumbled to her waist, the same color as Lisette's, which made them often mistaken as sisters. Lisette was seven years older than Meg, and the maturity in the difference of their ages often showed, but Lisette was thankful for the female companionship being in an orchestra with all male musicians except for her.
"You have that look in your eye," Lisette said, closing her music and adjusting to take her friend's hand. "What's going on?"
"Poligny has claimed to see the opera ghost!"
Lisette raised an eyebrow. "You know better than anyone that he's a superstitious old man."
Meg rolled her eyes. "Maman's being very mysterious about the whole thing. I dared ask her about it but she wouldn't say a word!"
Lisette smirked. Meg's mother, Madame Giry, was the ballet mistress was one of the most fearsome women Lisette had ever met. She dressed in black clothes and carried a cane at all time, which she often used on young girls or stagehands who dared to misbehave when she was nearby. It was rumored that Madame Giry was close friends with the opera ghost, for all letters were delivered through her. There was also a rumor that the opera ghost received a monthly salary of 20,000 francs. No one could prove it, but Madame Giry was supposedly the one who delivered that large sum from the managers to the ghost. Even to her own daughter, Madame Giry hardly spoke of anything but the ballet corps at the Palais Garnier and kept her activities outside of the ballet studio discrete.
"Well, now we know to expect him to be even more silly than usual," Lisette said, standing. "The old fool! He's always muttering about strange superstitions going on around here. It was only a matter of time before he claimed to see the opera ghost."
"Oh, Lisette!" Meg cried, throwing her hands in the air. "Don't be doubtful of the opera ghost, he doesn't like that! If he knows you don't believe in him, it's only a matter of time before he'll show himself to you."
Lisette waved the comment away before making her way down to the opera stalls. Unlike on stage, the members of the orchestra were generally quiet except for the sound of warming up on their instruments. As she settled into the nook near the back corner of the stalls where the piano stood, she briefly glanced at the air vent near her feet. For a moment, she was a flash of white which made her take a double take.
Her heart began pounding in her chest. She could have sworn when she'd looked down the air vent, she'd seen a gaping hole among the white where an eye should have been, but there was nothing there now, merely darkness.
She shook her head, arranging the music on the piano stand. All this talk of the opera ghost was getting to her head. But her mind couldn't help but wander to the mysterious humming she'd heard around the opera late at night. She was determined to find out what stagehand was being funny and was intending on spooking her.
Armel Roux waved to her from the other side of the stalls, coming near her with his bassoon reed soaking in his mouth.
"How was the rehearsal?" he muttered despite the reed in his mouth.
She shrugged. "Carlotta was to be as expected. Thankfully, she doesn't seem to know the orchestra's accompaniment any better than I did when I was sight reading."
Armel laughed. He was dressed in tweed pants and a shirt, his sleeves rolled up and sweat glistening on his forehead. The orchestra stalls were known to be notoriously hot and she could already feel her lower back beginning to soak into her dress. However, it was strange to see him dressed so casually. They were often used to seeing each other dressed in all black, even in orchestra rehearsals on the rare occasion the composer would come and visit. It was rare, but a formality Reyer insisted upon.
Armel was nowhere near handsome. He was a short, pudgy man with a thick mustache much too large for his face. She knew he had grown it to help him appear older, but it only made him look like a little boy despite the fact that he was three years older than her. He often wore his shoulder length black hair slicked against his head which only seemed to bring out the redness in his cheeks. It was especially funny when he had to play a particularly long passage on the bassoon without taking a breath and his face would turn purple. He would always become furious with her for laughing at him.
"That's a relief," he said. "I'm sure she'll have plenty to say at this upcoming rehearsal."
"If she even shows up," Lisette says harshly.
Armel rook his reed out of his mouth, turning to head back to his instrument. "Sounds like you both got off to a great start."
Lisette scowled at his back, but rested her hand on her cheek. She winced as she felt the bumpy flesh on her left cheek beneath her fingertips, flushing red and trying to catch her reflection in the nearby mirror. The moment she saw her piercing green eyes staring back at her, she turned away, blinking back the tears which were always careful to overflow when she saw her face.
As she began practicing the passages she'd circled earlier backstage in Act IV, she tried to avoid the gaze of orchestra members who were settling into their seats. She knew she was the ugliest girl in the Palais Garnier, perhaps in Paris, and she hated when others stared. Nobody would ever understand what it meant to be looked upon differently, pitied, and to some, despised. It was why she focused on her music and hardly gave attention to anybody else. Armel and Meg were the only two she'd opened herself up to because of their genuine hearts. There were many people in the orchestra, chorus, and ballet corps she'd loved to get to know better, but she saw the way they looked at her, and she knew it would never be possible to fit in.
She'd remain behind the keys of the piano where she knew she'd always belong.
Don't forget to rate and review!
Updates will come as quickly as life allows! Just for fair warning, I am in the middle of my student teaching right now with graduation coming up in May, so updates may be far and wide or close together depending on my weekends. I've been so excited to write this FanFiction for so long. I spent my winter vacation reading Leroux's Phantom of the Opera, Kay's Phantom, and watching the 2004 musical movie to prepare for this.
My goal with this FanFiction is to keep the story line the same as in Leroux's and Kay's novels. There are elements of the musical which I will incorporate when necessary, and I will clarify those in later chapters.
Lisette and Armel are my original characters, everyone else is true to the novel or a true historical figure who actually performed in the Palais Garnier in the 1880's (such as the primo baritone).
I'd love to hear first impressions of what you think of Lisette, the heroine for our story. More background and physical descriptions will be offered in later chapters, but the physical descriptions I've given her so far will be essential in later chapters.