Birth of Adam (Artificial Intelligence Book 2) (18 page)

When Amanda entered the car, she had a choice of sitting by Jules or Anon. She smiled and sat down by Jules.

“Where’s your hat?” he demanded.

“Oops!” She opened the car door, intending to retrieve it, but saw Sondra running down the steps, hat in hand. “Thanks,” she said as she took the hat and placed it in her lap.

Bastion sat down beside her while Richart, Pinchot and Simon squeezed in next to Anon.

“Where’s Michel?” she asked.

Bastion shook his head at her, then focused on Jules. “Amanda ate only two slices of toast, and will no doubt be hungry once she has auditioned.”

“Sick with embarrassment is more like it,” Anon muttered.

When they arrived, Jules helped her put on her hat while Andrew handed her a water bottle and promised her he had plenty more.

She smiled in appreciation. Adam had warned her not to accept food or water from anyone other than Andrew. He had reviewed the statistics of singers who vomited on their first performance and concluded someone in the theater was poisoning new singers, probably as an initiation ritual. Since he didn’t know how they poisoned the singers, he had ordered her to avoid food and water, and ordered Andrew to remain close by and keep everyone physically away from her.

If she hadn’t had such bad experiences previously with resentful musicians, Amanda might have teased Adam for being overly protective. However, all she had to do was imagine a few cast members with Beth’s personality, and she was very glad for Andrew’s protection.

Jules was upset when he realized Andrew intended to guard her during her audition. She called Adam and let him argue with her cranky agent.

“Put a positive spin on it by declaring her a valuable asset in need of protection. Or you can make my involvement known. Either way, I am in charge of her security, and Andrew will accompany her. This is non-negotiable.”

Anon insisted upon singing first, and Bastion agreed it was best. He then whispered in Amanda’s ear. “Otherwise, he will be devastated by your audition and fail at his own. This way he will have two weeks to recover.”

Jules led them down to Jacque and introduced them. Jacque focused on Amanda. “My beautiful critic!” he said, and kissed both cheeks. “So you’ve come to save Don Carlos’ aria, have you?”

“I had no choice! It’s too beautiful a piece to cut.”

“I hope with all my heart you sing as well as you critique.”

She laughed. “I plan to do better than that.”

“Would you like to go first?”

“Anon wishes to go first.”

“Ah, but it should be the lady’s choice,” Jacque insisted.

“Well then, I wish Anon to go first.”

“I will take them both back now,” Jules said.

“No, leave her with me,” Jacque insisted. “I’ll want to know her opinion.”

Anon’s mouth opened in outrage. She expected one of his tantrums was about to explode, but Jules tightened his grip on his arm and hurried him away.

A stagehand came by and offered her a bottle of water, but Andrew waved him off.

Safely seated between Bastion and Jacque, with Andrew seated directly behind her, she relaxed and closed her eyes.

Then Jacque decided to interrogate her. “So, why did you not tell me you could sing this aria?”

Before she could answer, Bastion spoke up. “Because you would have demanded she sing it then, and she still had a few flaws I wished to correct.”

She smiled at Bastion for his clever answer.

Anon entered from stage left and approached the mic. He looked nervous and upset, and Amanda worried he would not perform at his best. Jacque turned and noticed someone sitting at the back. He motioned for the person to come down, but the man shook his head no.

Amanda turned and saw it was the ‘besotted’ fellow she had met at the party yesterday and waved at him. She then turned her attention back to Anon.

“Where is the pianist?” Jacque yelled. “Will someone get the pianist?” He then looked at Amanda. “Are you friends with Sean?”

“I just met him yesterday.”

“Do you know why he’s sitting back there?”

“Jules was bragging about my voice and told him he’d have to wait two weeks to hear me. I guess he’s not that patient.”

Jacque laughed. “No, he is not patient at all!” He turned back to the stage. “Where is the damn pianist?”

“Simon can play it,” she offered.

“No, he can’t. It’s against union rules,” Jacque said in exasperation, and stood up. “Is anyone back there?”

“Actually, Simon can play if Bastion declares this a teaching audition,” Adam offered.

Amanda whispered the possibility to Bastion and he kissed her hand and suggested the solution to Jacque.

“Perfect, Bastion. I would love to give your students a chance to acclimate themselves to the French Opera,” Jacque declared in his loudest voice, to ensure those backstage could hear him. “You brought your own pianist, I hope, for I would hate to ask my musician to get off his lazy ass and play.”

Simon hurried onto the stage. Soon an angry fellow stormed out and demanded that Simon leave his piano, but Jacque intervened. “That’s all right, Pierre. We do not require your assistance. This is only a teaching demonstration. Go back to whatever you felt was more important.”

He was about to tell Simon to begin when Anon ran off the stage.

“Another notch for the grand lady. I hope you did not overeat this morning?” Jacque chided.

“I have promised Jules I will not embarrass him,” she assured Jacque.

Jacque glanced back at Sean. “Bastion, if this boy does not begin soon, Sean will eat my seat cushions.”

Bastion asked Amanda if he could have her bottled water. She gave it to him, and he disappeared backstage. Two minutes later, Anon returned looking humbled but determined.

When he finished singing his aria, Jacque asked her what she thought.

“He sang it better last night, so you didn’t hear him at his best, but I believe he has the skill to master this song, and I know Bastion believes it, or he wouldn’t have suggested Anon. Bastion doesn’t want the song butchered any more than he wants it cut.”

“How much better did he sing it last night?”

She went through each major problem and assessed his performance of last night and today. “Perhaps you should have him sit here and fully wash his throat of the stomach acids and let him try again after I sing.”

“And do you plan to ask the same favor for yourself?”

“No, I’m going to sing my very best, so if you don’t like it, then you should send me home.”

With that declaration, she and Andrew walked backstage, where he kept everyone away from her until she was onstage.

She stared up at the endless seats, then laughed. “Jules is right. This is far more intimidating than my school’s recital hall. Whenever you’re ready, Professor Simon,” she said.

She focused on Sean in the back row. He was so far away she couldn’t actually see his expression, and thus couldn’t be distracted by anything he might do. All she dared think about was the music and singing it perfectly.

When she finished the piece, she smiled at her small but enthusiastic standing ovation. Even the people in the wings applauded her. Simon squeezed her hand and walked her offstage. Backstage, Andrew had a devil of a time keeping people from shaking her hand. By the time he had her into the auditorium, he complained she needed a whole team of security.

Jules was the first to reach her, and removed her hat so he could cover her face in kisses. “You were perfect, utterly perfect!” He led her over to Jacque and left her to receive more hugs and kisses. She noticed Anon looked devastated.

“Are you not going to hear Anon sing again?” she asked Jacque.

“After hearing your perfection? Absolutely not!”

“But he really is good enough to sing the song.”

Jacque sighed and looked at Bastion. “Do you promise me he will not fall apart on opening night?”

Bastion nodded. “Normally, he is quite steady.”

“Then I’ll go with your advice, since you have brought me an angel who will guarantee my production to be a success.” With his arm around her, he called Jules and Anon over.

“Amanda assures me you are better than you performed today, so I’m going to give you a try, but if I do not see vast improvement before opening night, I am cutting you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, thank you,” Anon said, then gave Amanda a cold glare.

***

Jules and Bastion plotted every minute of Amanda’s and Anon’s lives for the next two weeks. Jacque wanted them on site the entire day, despite the fact that they were only needed for five minutes of performance time. Amanda now understood why these songs would rarely be included in Don’s opera.

While the songs were beautiful, they required too much time investment for serious artists, and lesser artists could not sing them.

“Could we perhaps sing in the chorus as well?” Amanda asked.

Both men looked at her as if she were nuts. Finally, Jules replied, “I do not represent chorus singers.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do all day waiting to sing my five minutes? Will we at least be given a quiet place where I can work on my composition? It’s due this Friday.”

“This is the chance of a lifetime!” Jules exclaimed.

Amanda sighed. “Only if I’m not poisoned, as poor Anon was today. And if you make me stay here all day, Andrew is going to have a heart attack trying to protect me.”

“I was poisoned?” Anon asked.

“I believe you were. You possess far too much confidence to be hit with stage fright. Did you accept any water or food when you were backstage?”

“Water,” he declared, and glared at her. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t know for certain, but I know this opera house has a reputation for making new singers sick, and I’ve endured enough freshman harassment to be wary of any food or water offered to me by the established herd.”

Anon stared at Jules. “I was poisoned!” he declared with great satisfaction. “I didn’t lose my nerve. I was fine when I first stood on the stage. I became sick while waiting for the pianist, which is no doubt why he took so long.  I want my blood tested!”

Jules glared at Amanda for starting trouble and informed Anon that he did not want anything of the sort. “Even if you were purposely sickened, you held your own and have obtained the part. Thus, you have passed your trial by fire and will be safe now.”

That seemed to satisfy Anon, and he leaned back. “I knew it was not stage fright. I do not get stage fright. Tomorrow I will show them how a true artist can sing.”

“That is all very well for Anon, but I have yet to be poisoned, and frankly don’t wish to be. I would prefer going to class and simply arrive for the hour I am needed.”

“You will do as I say!” Jules bellowed, so loudly that everyone grimaced in pain from the deafening noise.

Bastion interceded. “I will talk to Jacque and tell him they both need further training. He need only call and I can have them here in fifteen minutes.” He smiled at Amanda. “And as long as you continue to sing the song without flaw, you may attend your classes.” He frowned at Anon. “We will continue your training. I was most displeased with your performance today.”

“Yes, but I was poisoned!” Anon reminded him.

“Well, you are no longer so,” he declared. “And you will master this piece by the end of this week or I will pull you from the opera.”

Amanda had missed her first class and was late to her second, but since Pinchot was late as well, she received no scolding. However, when he told the class why they were late, she did receive some deadly glares. She was glad Beth no longer attended the class. Her good news would have sent the unstable girl into a murderous rage.

To her surprise, a few of the European students actually extended their congratulations and seemed to be reconsidering their contemptuous dislike of her. One asked how she’d received the opportunity to audition, given she was not a member of the French Opera Guild.

“There are exceptions for students of this school,” Pinchot replied.

“Why weren’t others allowed to audition?” Amy asked.

“Because there are no other vocalists capable of singing the song,” he replied. “Certainly not you.”

“How would you know? I was never given the opportunity.”

Pinchot pulled out the sheet music and handed it to her. “Do you think you can sing this?”

Her frown deepened the farther along she went in the music. By page three, she stopped. “Not without practicing.”

“Not even then,” he countered, and pulled the sheet music away from her and handed it to another student. “Study it for a moment and pass it on. This beautiful aria is the crowning jewel of Don Carlos’ opera, soon to open at the French Opera house. Sadly, the aria was about to be cut when Monsieur Bastion intervened and provided a student capable of singing it. Don Carlos purposely wrote the piece to highlight a finely skilled vocalist. There is no acting required. The age of the character is nondescript. All the lady need have is a four-octave range, perfect pitch and incredible vocal flexibility. This highly skilled singer is then expected to sit on the sidelines for two hours, sing one four-minute aria just before the close of act two, then sit on the sidelines again for another hour waiting for a curtain call in which she is presented after the chorus for one bow.”

He sighed and sat on the edge of his desk. “As brilliant as Don Carlos was, he was very foolish in the creation of this aria. Can someone other than Amanda tell me why?”

The Frenchman who had observed she was not a French guild member raised his hand. “I was going to say he should have written the part for a bigger role, so a prima donna would consider it worth her time. However, upon reviewing the sheet music, I see another problem. He has severely limited the number of vocalists capable of singing the piece, which means had he made this aria part of an important role it would be harder to cut...and honestly, I doubt anyone will ever be able to do this song justice.”

“Very few, and you bring up an excellent point. Had he written it for the lead, let us say, then the vocalists with the talent to perform the role would never be more than one or two in a generation.”

“Or none,” someone else observed. “When you take in the requirements for acting and dancing.”

“But let us say that such a broadly talented singer exists, certainly not the one currently cast...”

Amanda had to object. “I thought the lead quite good,” she protested.

Pinchot smiled at her. “Then let us say Madame LaRue manages to do this aria partial justice and performs the remainder of the opera beautifully. How will the critics respond?”

“They will start by noting her slaughter of the aria,” someone said.

“So let us say the director, wishing to protect Madame LaRue from such a fate, cuts the aria out entirely. Now what will the critics say?”

“They will complain the most beautiful aria had to be cut because Madam LaRue lacked the skill to sing it.”

“Given these certainties, if you were Madam LaRue, would you take this role?”

Everyone agreed they would not.

“Thus, Bresnan is correct. There is no leading lady who can, will, or should take the part if the aria belongs to her. Yet we have already concluded that the piece on its own will not entice a skilled singer. So why did Don Carlos even write this aria?”

“He forgot the realities and imperfections of real life?” Amanda suggested.

Pinchot smiled. “Don knew all too well the imperfections of life. He wrote these arias as a challenge to his dear friend Monsieur Bastion to create and showcase new talent. However, he knew under most conditions the arias could not be sung, and thus made them easily removable from his opera.”

“Arias...is there more than one?” a student asked.

“There is an aria for a tenor as well. That is being sung by Anon du Bon.”

Most of the European students had heard of him and nodded their approval.

“So let us get to the crux of the matter. Should Don Carlos have written these arias at all?”

The general opinion was that he should not have done so, or that he should have watered them down, making them easier to sing. Only Amanda disagreed.

“I cannot wish for anything so beautiful not to exist. I am sorry, but if Don Carlos had the ability to write something so perfect, then he had no choice but to compose it. Even if it’s only sung once, or never sung at all, he still had to write it, just because he could.”

Pinchot playfully struck her on the head with rolled sheet music. “Fortunately, the class does not agree with you, and thus may have learned a valuable lesson in composition. Just as you do not ask a flute to fill your bass line, do not ask a vocalist to do the impossible.”

“But it is not impossible!” Amanda insisted.

“Until recently I was convinced it was, and that makes it damn near impossible, which, for all practical purposes, is the same. Compose to your instruments. Do not stretch their ranges. Do not challenge the physics of the tempo at which they can be played. However, if you must do so in the quest for perfection, make certain it is done in a piece that can be removed without damaging the whole.”