Chapter 11: The Story Tellers Magic.
Morning came on quickly. It was a bright sunny morning. The sun poured in through the windows of the theatre, breathing life into it. And with the dawn came the announcement, of excitement, from the managers. Word spread quickly from Monsieur Reyer and Madame Giry down the ranks of the musicians and ballerinas until everyone in the building knew that something was about to happen. No clear details had been given but something had come to them. Speculations began to fly about what the news could be but no one could say for sure.
"What is it about," one ballerina asked Madame Giry as they gathered in the practice hall.
"That is for later child now practice," Madame Giry answered and watched as Meg dreamily walked into the practice hall, "have you heard the new?" she asked her daughter.
"What news?" Meg asked as she changed into her ballet slippers and began to stretch.
"About La Dance du Diable," Madame Giry whispered excitedly into her daughters ears, "but be hushed darling, the other do not know of the title of the work yet. But I have been told the Phantom has plans for a ballerina to be lead in his new work."
"If that is what he has chosen then that is for him to decide," Meg said calmly as she bent low to the ground in a stretch.
Madame Giry grew quiet at her daughters lack of interest in the production and carried on with the routine rehearsal.
Andre and Firmin walked quickly into the ballet practice hall and crossed, followed by a group of unknown gentlemen, to Madame Giry. The interruption, of the managers and the strange men, was complete and stopped the ballet practice. With the end of the practice a new noise erupted in the practice hall, that of chattering young ballerinas.
"Ladies," Andre called trying to hush the group of gossiping women.
An uneasy silence fell over the room. The ballerina's gathered in groups, clearly divided from the others in the room. Meg walked slowly to her mothers side and stood quietly as Andre and Firmin waited to start their speech.
"As many of you may know," Firmin started forcing the excitement in his voice, "we have been delivered a new work for this institution to perform."
"La Dance Du Diable!" Andre announced far more enthusiastically than Firmin.
"It is a work of both operatic singing and grand ballet," Firmin continued, "it is going to take a great deal of work from all of you and many more dancers, musicians and especially singers are needed. It is going to cost the Opera Populair enormous amounts of money and therefore we cannot risk it not being a spectacular event."
"But it is to be one of the biggest works we have every dared to perform here," Andre said with a grand movement of his arms, "it is by a new and innovative composer, who is doing new and wonderful things to the art. This could possibly be the beginning of something amazing. A completely new form of musical drama."
A large "oo" rose from the group of ballerinas. Andre was winning the batter of encouragement and excitement over Firmin. The energy in the room seemed to rise and fall as the news was passed between the two managers. The excitement continued to grow and spread. It had happened slowly as they went on in their speech but all eyes had grown wide and the ballerinas now gathered closer and closer to the managers as they spoke.
"But what is this musical drama about Monsieur?" one of the older ballerinas asked as Andre stopped to catch his breath.
"Oh my dear it's a simply enchanting story," Andre said, Firmin rolled his eyes, "gather round, gather round and I will tell you this tale of magic and tragedy," he said as he emphasised his words to capture as much of their attention as he could.
The ballerinas sat, poised on the ground, and waited for the story to begin.
"La Angelle, the leading soprano, is a plain, undesirable, young peasant woman. She had fallen in love with Adair, the noble tenor. Adair is a handsome young man in search of love and adventure. He passes Angelle in the market one morning and doesn't even spare a glance for her. Angelle is crushed and left to weep in the busy marketplace. In her sorrow, she vows to find a way to make him see her through the crowd, but she had the beauty of the noble women, played by our wonderful ballet troop, that stand between her and Adair. The marketplace is filled with a sorrowful song that Angelle sings to her lost love as the ballerinas and chorus sing and dance in a joyful teasing way," Andre said, over exaggerating the sorrows and the happiness as the ballerinas reacted to his every word.
Gasps of wonder filled the practice hall. The ballerinas had become very interest by now. They all hung off of his words, giggling to each other, as images of the spectacle filled their heads.
"Filled with sorrow," Andre continued, "Angelle fled into the forest by the light of the moon where she comes across a clearing. The forest floor glows red hot and there in the middle of the clearing is a beautiful woman, who dances on bare feet to a music that she seems only to hear. The woman is La Diable, played by one of you," Andre said as hope filled all of there eyes, "with only dance, La Diable asks Angelle what her heart desires and in a wonderful Aria, to which La Diable dances to, Angelle trades her soul to be beautiful," Andre said as he mimed handing something to a ballerina that sat at his feet.
The ballerinas chattered with delight.
"The next day while in the market, Adair rides through again. Angelle's newfound beauty catches his eye and they sing a wonderful duet of a wonderful day spent together and their hearts being lost to each other," Andre said as he stooped down and place one hand on a ballerina's shoulder and the other on his heart.
"Awe," The ballerinas sighed.
"Sadly," he said harshly, "La Diable has been watching all along with a band of her minions from the underworld, also played by our ballerinas and led by six female singers, three sopranos and three altos. They follow, unseen as Angelle and Adair fall more and more in love with each other and La Diable grows jealous of the beautiful Angelle, for she wants Adair for herself."
"No," a ballerina gasped.
"It can't be so," another cried.
"Oh yes, but it is!" Andre hissed, "La Diable casts a spell on Adair and pulls him from Angelle's arms. She cries out in a fearful Aria as La Diable dances Adair right into hell. Angelle follows, her heart broken, right into the fire of the clearing in the woods. She is met by the shouts and the cries of the underworld, in one of the biggest chorus passages we have ever seen and is made dizzy by the dances of La Diable's followers. And this is the end of the first Act." Andre smiled.
The ballerinas stared at him as he remained silent, wiping his brow with a handkerchief.
"Oh Monsieur go on!" someone cried.
"Ah but it is time for a short intermission child," Andre laughed, "do you not want to get up and stretch?"
"No, no," came shouts from the ballerinas.
"Very well," Andre smiled and shoved his handkerchief into his pocked, "our seen begins again with a waltz between La Diable and Adair, accompanied by a melodious song from the chorus but the misleading sneers and cackles of La Diable's followers. Adair realises that something is wrong but his mind is incredibly clouded. He sings an aria of lost passion, lost hope and a pair of lost eyes that he can still see deep within him. La Diable is furious that she is losing her grip on the handsome young man. Her dance becomes more vigorous and more sexual," Andre said and grabbed a ballerina by the wrist pulling her up close to him, "she then takes hold of Adair and tries to convince him, with her dance, that he is in love with her. As the dance of six other ballerinas continue to build the spell that grows around him led on by the chanting of the six female singers. But he resist!" Andre yelled pushing the ballerina away from him, "he turns on La Diable, she is not the one he loves, he cries out in song. A men's chorus, from off stage, sing him on and then is joined by the women's voices, also off stage, and he remembers Angelle and her beauty."
"How romantic," the ballerina beside him said as she sat down again.
"Oh yes," Firmin added with a hint of sarcasm.
"Ah but alas," Andre started again, his face twisted into a sorrowful look, "Angelle had lost her beauty when she entered into hell and the followers of La Diable attached her. And yet she is determined to save Adair, or to at least see him again and plead with to him see her for the woman she is. She continues on in her journey, the strength she needs coming to her in the form of a beautiful chorus of angel songs and the dance of seven ballerinas dressed in white. Angelle joins the chorus in a great aria as the angels lead her on until she comes to where La Diable is keeping Adair."
"Oh it is to end happy," one ballerina cried.
"Oh but it doesn't," Andre said as he pointed to the ballerina, "there, on the floor, Adair lies. La Diable is outraged, she is out of breath and leans against a terrible fiery thrown. Her costume has even changed and looks angrier and more frightening. Angelle cries out to Adair in fear. She throws herself on him and weeps. Her tears mix with the angels song as the seven angels and La Diable's six daemons dance around them. The angels win the battle and life is breathed back into Adair. As he rises Angelle see his face," Andre paused.
The ballerinas held onto each other in fear and excitement. Each and every one of them held their breath.
"Don't stop Monsieur," they all cried.
"But it may be to much for you," Andre said with a sigh.
"No, no, go on!" the called out.
"He's hideous!" Andre hissed as he lunged at the Ballerinas.
They cried out in horror and fell back away from him.
"His face is not the face of a handsome man anymore, but terribly ugly and deformed," Andre said, then added in a gentler tone, "Angelle weeps, but takes his face in her hands and caresses it. Adair joins in her song of sorrow and love. He takes her, the woman that looks as poorly as he, into his arms and vows to love her for ever. The angels return in a sorrowful song and pulls them both from hell, leaving La Diable alone. She stands in the middle of the stage her hands outstretched in the direction that Adair and Angelle left. She is tortured and sorrowful herself and here she dances her last, the devil's lament. She falls to the floor at the end of her dance and is engulfed in the flames of hell."
A great silence fell over the ballerinas. Some wept, others clung to the younger ones. It was a tragic story and yet brilliant in its design.
"Who could write such a story of sadness and loss," a ballerina asked through her tears as she held onto a smaller girl.
"I don't know if you really could understand if I told you," Andre sighed as a sudden sorrow hit him. The story he had just told was so filled with loss and yet seemed familiar in a way.
"Andre they have a right to know," Firmin hissed feeling impatient, "the whole reason we came here was to tell them this and you've turned it into story time. For the love of God, we have so much work to do and here you are wasting time."
"Fine," Andre said looking angrily at Firmin, "you want me to tell them who the tragic composer of this monumental work is? Fine I will and then I leave it to you to explain because I now see things clearer through the eyes of a genius. This story is not only fiction but oh so real in its being. It could happen to any of us!"
"Oh come now Andre, you're over reacting," Firmin laughed, "it could not!"
"The star crossed lovers of Romeo and Juliet," Andre said turning back to the ballerinas, "the sad truth of Beauty and the Beast. Even our own history here at the Opera Populair shows signs of the tragedies that have happened. And there is always the misunderstood villain as we would call it," Andre sighed for a minute and then looked to the sky, "ladies, the composer of this wonderful work of sorrow and rejection is..." he trailed of for a second, "The Phantom himself."
A gasp rose from the ballerinas as Meg fled from the practice hall.