"Again Chopin's polonaise is being played,
Oh my God! — how many fans,
And downcast eyes, and tender mouths,
But how close is betrayal, how it rustles.
Music's shadow flickered on the wall,
But did not touch the greenish moonlight.
Oh, how many times I turned cold here
And someone terrible nodded at me in the window.
And the voice from 1913
Again shouts: I'm here, I'm yours again...
I need neither fame nor freedom,
I know too well... but nature remains silent,
And it smelled of sepulchral dampness."
Akhmatova.
So in a gust of courage, I dug up that card with both addresses in Paris and Milan. I decided to go visit tomorrow in the Barney residence.
Thus next evening, in the greenish light of spring I slipped out to the address indicated on the card. The building in front of me, seemed to be part of a Renaissance palace that had been converted into a hotel for the wealthy. Yellowish stone palazzo architecture and large patio, a row of large Tuscan cypresses in front of the stairs. I smoothed out my pale skirt and stepped into a completely different universe.
The decor was sensual and calm, with just a few senna-colored accents. At the counter uniformed porter with a mustache, who advised me on the right room and floor. The door opened immediately, and Nathalie exclaimed to me:
" Oh how gratifying that thou are here, coming to see us, today, of all days! I imagined it was my last costume order that had already arrived, when thou rapped at the door. I'd rather take thou as a my guest than a new day dress, I already have too many of them so saying, Nathalie lead the way into the apartment.
The suite, consisted three large separate rooms with a dim curtain between them. The first room was spacious and bright. Cream-light curtains on the large windows, a Roman-influenced divan, a Japanese vase, everything was light and airy, the minor furniture was graceful Empire style, and there were a bouquet of violets everywhere mixed with jasmine branches.
The other room was completely different. It was decorated in darkly colored drapes of amethyst, purple, and emerald. The second Egyptian influenced divan had a writing drawer set up immersed in light cloth, which had been carelessly thrown there. Writing sheets, pencils, and a few dictionaries stacked together. On a narrow table near the window was set in an artistic angle thin narrow vase contained lily flowers which, combined with the scent of jasmine and violet, were intoxicating.
The second window was open, and the roar of the street echoed from below.
Isn't this what thou expected Nathalie stated, calmly as I sat down on the nearest divan. I shook my head in silence, and said:
" I don't know what I was thinking or expecting, but this decor is not it, it is pretty symbolic, decadent and gloomy, Renee´s side is it? Yours is obiously the first room. I glanced at the stack of books, they were Greek dictionaries, but, several of them, why many, would not one be enough?
Nathalie laughed a little bitterly and said with wry twist in at her mouth:
" Renee is currently translating Sappho from ancient Greece into French, so several dictionaries are needed. She has a deep suspicion of male academics, and to the whole of ancient research in general, she believes men have destroyed some important fragments of Sapphos writings as there are some gaps."
" Personally I am not so hostile. Life is for living, not for the dead, there are pleasures to be found, conversations to be had, and different Operas to experience. Sappho's legacy is important, but Renee is always too excited about everything, and it is so tiring at times.
" Where is Renee then, and is she really a poet, as you hinted when we met at La Scala after that premier, I inquired?"
Nathalie offered me champagne, and sat down next to me on the divan, and uttered:
"Yes she is and, has published poems. They are relatively popular in certain circles, among acquaintances and friends, thou understand. Renee tends to write in the style of the 18th century, as do I, but I myself am a prose writer mainly, of course poems too. I do extensive correspondence with every interesting connection that I find. Among them are critics, artists, writers, lyricists, social persons, including a few composers, and so on and so forth.
" As thou can see, Renee isn't here, just now she's wandering around the nearest cemetery, looking for inspiration, again. She walks marathons and often sleeps outside, in springtime, which is bad for her health. She is not very strong, although it is partly self-inflicted. And if she were here all this would be completely messed up. She wouldn't know how to keep any order in her room or at any room, for that matter.
Outside, last of light disappeared, lamps shimmered a gentle blue golden glow.
Nathalie offered fruits, from a crystal bowl and brewed Turkish coffee with fragrant nutty sweets. Evening wore on, and little by little, bit, by bit I noticed that I was telling Nathalie, my background and my life at Evergreens, with Grandmother and Woman, shady, gloomy and silent days on end without milk, before Anne Shirley came sparkling into Summerside and made it all grow in different directions.. I was about nine when letter came and freed me from Grandmother and Woman, now I am half past nineteen.
I still continue to vary my name according to my moods, it may seem a little queer. That is why I introduced myself to you today as Beth, and now I feel like a Betty. I'm always Betty when I'm in tune with the world and the universe, like now. Officially my name is Mademoiselle Elizabeth Grayson.
Suddenly it occurred to me that I haven't been similarly open for years. Past the days of Summerside, which have already disappeared into the fog of Elsewhere. In the end, I mentioned my dream of being a professional singer, and not just social entertainment and beautiful ornament.
Nathalie looked at me suddenly, sharply and attentively, and commanded. In the next room, there is that statue of miniature Diana, in the corner there's a little piano. Sing and play something for me now. A pleasant evening is always accompanied by music and evening with thou is wonderful. And when thou are done, then I´ll know. The stage isn't for everyone, even if thou can have the skill and presence and the taste for it.
I got up to the piano with the most trembling knees, and commanded myself. This is the moment you must not fail, keep your voice free, control breathing, straight posture with your hands in line, except when the music requires a graceful movement, in playing and watch out for the wrong tones, and choose the song you know in your dreams. Use it as a portal to Tomorrow. There was a pile of sheet music on top of the piano, I quickly scrolled through them and picked one. Sparkling Rossini echoed through the rooms, as I performed that aria of Rosina Una Voco Poco Fa from ´il Barbiere di Siviglia`.
When the last tunes had faded Nathalie stood up, reaching out to me and said with peculiar smile: " Brava, Bravissimo. That cherie was a success. The quality of thou voice is startling. It is soft and creamy, but at the same time very bright. The register of thou voice is remarkably extensive. Thou presence and looks are effective, and powerful. The aria selection was inspired, I wouldn't have been able to listen to Bellini or Donizetti tonight.
I have to write letters, soon to my different contacts, in the operatic scene, to ask for advice, what would be the best possible place for thou to grow into your Art. Do thou want to stay here, in Italy it is still the capital of the opera, thou can go back to France, or perhaps stay in Russia for some time. The Marinsky Theater is really good option too and I have some friends there as well.
In the honor of thou voice we have to celebrate a little Nathalie declaired gaily, and placed narrow glasses on the table. They were filled with a milky drink mixed with a few drops of water. Ouzo directly from Greece, Nathalie smiled, leaned towards
me and whispered in french:
Levons cette coupe à l'amitié, à la beauté et à la musique ! I lifted the glass to my lips and tasted the sweet anise.
Time seemed to melt. A gilded clock on the edge of the fireplace chimed.
Night was over.
AN:
Thank you all very much for receiving this little account of Little Elizabeth's journey so well. It's really gratifying and moving to see. Translation to the french line of Nathalie´s goes as follows:" Let's elevate this toast, to friendship, to beauty, and to music!"