I know this chapter was long in coming, and short--I'm not the best with newspaper articles. I tried to see if I could omit it, but it sets up a lot of stuff for the future, so, here it is. This also took a lot of research on my part, actually; reading through period newspaper articles of this nature, finding a place to plop the theater, etc. As a result, all streets and other landmarks referred to are real, excepting the Theater, which I've placed where the modern-day Long Island University now stands.
Fun fact: Brooklyn was it's own city--that is, separate from New York City--until 1898.
Anyway, thanks to all the lovely readers and reviewers, as well as Wikipedia and Google Maps for making this chapter possible.
disclaimer: Entirely fictional, excepting location.
chapter 11
(Excerpt from The Times, January 5, 1873)
Crowds Stunned by Operetta; Manager not to rest until mystery composer is discovered
With the old year behind us and the New Year stretching out before us, 1873 seems a promising environment for new talent. As came as somewhat of a surprise to your faithful correspondent, this new talent arrived sooner on the scene than was anticipated, and from an even more unlikely arena.
As the reader is no doubt aware, your faithful correspondent often makes it a habit of attending not only the most grandiose productions gracing the venues of this most noble city, but also those lesser prominent scattered throughout the city and those surrounding areas of interest. Today, your faithful correspondent would like to bring to the reader's attention the neighboring city of Brooklyn.
Last Saturday night, the 3rd of January, the first of a series of what is to be believed three unrelated operettas was performed at the Little Theater. Situated at the intersection of Flatbush and De Kalb, relatively close to the natural beauty that is Fort Greene Park, the Theater makes for a most convenient and pleasant stopping place indeed. No doubt some esteemed reader's eyebrow is slowly creeping up in incredulity, for is not the Little Theater situated mere minutes away from the most renowned and respected Brooklyn Academy of Music? Good readers, you are indeed correct. It seems almost laughable that such a venue can even begin to compete with the Academy, but rest assured the location is highly favorable in comparison.
Size, too, assures a grand spectacle—though architecture is rather lacking—as the auditorium is anything but "little" and provides marvelous acoustics, providing the listener the utmost enjoyment in the music and spectacles on the stage.
And such a spectacle to grace the stage but two days ago! Violins sang and cymbals crashed as wave after wave of music washed over the record crowds of the evening. The performers—all local, of course, as that is all the budget of the Theater can afford to keep, being but a year new to the neighborhood—put on a wonderful show, the energy of a one-night engagement furthering the performance outcome.
The operetta, written in French and based upon the well-known tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, featured soprano Della Dengrade and baritone James Bennett as the title characters, as well as tenor Arnold Hayes as Mercutio.
Critics abound, but what never failed to astound most people was not the performance itself, but on discovering that the Theater had acquired the most-auspicious piece without any way of identifying the composer.
When asked to comment on the unexpected success of the production, Theater Manager and Owner George Little informed your faithful correspondent that two additional pieces believed to be by the same composer had been acquired and scheduled to be put on in the upcoming months, and that he would not rest until the identity of the anonymous donor was revealed by some way or another.
"I'm convinced the answer we're searching for is in our records. I have staff examining and correlating the books as we speak," said Little.
Your faithful correspondent also requested to see the actual musical score, but was informed by one of the employees that it was now being kept under lock and key in Little's office, leading your faithful correspondent to come to the conclusion that clues as to the mystery composer's identity are to be found there as well as in the record books.
Rest assured, your faithful correspondent will be bringing you the first news of any headway in this most intriguing case—for, the question remains to be asked, why would a person of such obvious genius be hiding behind the shadows of anonymity?