I arrived at the stage door early and signed in and went up to the practice rooms on the 4th floor. There were already a few others here. I could hear other singers warming up, which is what I had come to do. I slowly walked through the hall slowing down at some of the rooms to listen. As I still did not know many of my colleagues yet I really did not know who was singing and while all the doors had windows, all the windows had been covered over with several layers of paper so you could not see in. At one room I could hear a lovely light lyric tenor voice. I stood and listened to him for a little while, mesmerized by the voice.
"Nice instrument, isn't it?" I jumped, startled. There was Jenni smiling at me.
"Oh, hi – you startled me. Yes, he has a beautiful voice."
"Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you. That is Mikey. He is a young artist, with an emphasis on the young part. He is only 18. He is the youngest one here. He's also from Nebraska! How about that?"
I giggled. "Who would have thought.?" I looked at Jenni, her brown tresses still a little damp from her morning shower. She was wearing shorts and a sleeveless blouse. No bra – which was way more obvious for her than for me. Her nipples were visible through the material of her blouse. "You are here early."
"Always, gotta warm-up. Glad to see you not wearing a bra." She winked at me.
"How can you tell?" I laughed.
"Oh, I can always tell... and so can everyone one else here."
I blushed.
She smiled. "I'm going to go practice, I'll see you at rehearsal."
"OK," I said.
As she entered a room, she stopped, "when is your first lesson?"
"Next week, on Tuesday, I think." I said cautiously.
"Mmmmm sounds like fun. You know what to expect?"
I blushed again, "well.... Yes I do. Kirsten has given me all the details."
"Well, I am sure of that. If anyone around here knows all the details it is Kirsten!" And with that she shut the door. And I could hear her begin her warm-up.
I made my way to the room next to hers, went in and closed the door. There was a lock on the door. That struck me as strange. I had never seen a lock on a practice room door before. I looked around. It was a small room. There was an old piano against one wall and against the other was a full-length mirror. I played a chord on the piano. "Well, at least it's in tune." I thought. I began with my breathing exercises and then started doing some vocalizations. I stood and looked at myself singing in the mirror. I am 5'4" and weighed only 112 back in those days. As I sang I untied the halter top and let it fall open. My hands moved up and I took hold of my small breasts. I stopped singing as I held and caressed and squeezed my small breasts, playing with my little pink nipples. Jenni's breasts are about 3 times larger than mine, I thought. I sighed and pinched my nipples. A little jolt went through my body, centering between my legs. I started to sing again. As I sang I slipped my hands to the clasp of my shorts. I unsnapped it and let them fall then I pushed the white cotton panties to my knees. My pussy was (and still is) covered by a mat of curly light brown hair. No one at that time shaved, like they do now. (For me I find the shaving completely unappealing. My lovely hairy pussy has always made me feel like a woman and I love the way the drops of fluid cling to the hairs.) I stood there looking at myself – naked. I moved one hand from my breast down my tummy over the triangle between my legs and then slipped a finger between my lips. I sighed. It felt nice. I quickly found my clitoris and began to play with her. I have always loved masturbating and so I stood and watched myself play with my breasts and pussy in front of this full-length mirror. But, after a few moments I stopped.
"I'll never get to rehearsal on time" I thought and with that I reluctantly pulled up my panties and shorts and fixed my halter. I sighed and continued to do my warm-ups. About 10 minutes before rehearsal I stopped. I took a last look at myself in the mirror to make sure I was somewhat presentable and then exited the practice room. The hall was now full with all of the choristers heading downstairs to the rehearsal room. I found Jenni again and we walked together. I met some of the others – including Mikey and some of the men. I smiled at Kirsten when we got to the room and she smiled back. I was relieved, I was afraid she might be mad that I left so early without telling her. We filed into the rehearsal room and took our seats for announcements, group warm-ups and rehearsal.
The rehearsal started with a review of the music of the Traviata Act I party scene. I knew it like the back of my hand. There is only about 20 minutes of music for the chorus in that scene so after working it for about 45 minutes we took a quick break and blocking began. The women were given rehearsal hoops to wear. When the dresses we will be wearing are 19th century hoop skirts one of the tricks is to learn to move in them, so we have to wear rehearsal hoopes during blocking so we can get used to them. Wearing these really does change the way we are spread onto the stage. We cannot stand too terribly close to each other. This was no big deal, as we were all used to them. Lots of operas dress the women in hoop skirts so this was not something we were unfamiliar with. At one point as we walked through the action of the scene I found myself standing next to the piano where Kirsten was seated and playing. As the director gave instructions to a group on the other side of the stage Kirsten got up from the piano bench and leaned close and whispered, "I'd like to see you wearing that thing without the shorts and panties." I blushed and smiled. "Happily," I told her. She smiled and we continued.
And so it went. The next day was the blocking of the Act III party scene. This is the scene where the tenor lead, Alfredo, humiliates the soprano, Violetta – unfairly as it happens - and then his daddy shows up and humiliates him. It is a great scene. It is hard not to get carried away with all the angry
va, va, va, va....
which lay very high for us soprani.
The act actually begins with a long extended chorus – first the women, sometimes dressed as gypsies, and then the men, sometimes dressed as matadors. That is about 30 extra costumes for an effect that is irrelevant to the plot. The dancers were dressed as gypsies and matadors but we would remain in our party garb from Act I. And then comes one of the best scenes in the opera: the gambling scene between Alfredo and Violetta's date the Baron Douphol.
The Baron in our production was played by a local bass, Fabio. He was probably in his late 40's, very good looking, married, a great voice and a wonderful character actor. I was one of the girls assigned to be sitting on another chorister's lap and being really flirty during the scene. It is a cool scene. If done well by two good singing actors the sparks really can start to fly and (as I discovered later when the tenor arrived) we had two great singing actors. It gives me chills just to write about it. They were at each other's throats (figuratively) in the very aristocratic and controlled way Verdi composed the scene. We were doing a very traditional staging so we had masks to manage as well. (I hate masks much more than I hate hoop skirts!)
Now the character, the Baron, does not have eyes for any other women. He is a bit obsessed with Violetta. But Fabio was a different story. He was very flirty with the chorus girls. He introduced himself to me and asked me where I was from. "Is that a southern accent you have?" He wanted to know. I told him no, I was raised in Idaho so I have a western accent, but that I had lived in upstate New York so I thought I had lost the accent. He found that very interesting. He told me he was actually Italian and had an Italian wife, but had moved to Caracas when he was in his 20's and liked it so much he stayed. He used to travel to sing in other opera houses, especially to Buenos Aires, but got tired of that. Especially after his children were born. He proudly told of his three boys and one girl who were all grown and gone here and there to school. He was very charming and chatted me up quite a bit, all the while finding ways to touch me on my shoulder or side or arm or ass. I did not discourage him. By the end of rehearsal we were friends and he invited me to a party at his house. I was very flattered.
The schedule was about one opera a month with multiple performances. We finished Cosi about 7days before Traviata was to open. I had gone to see Cosi and was very impressed. This was a good company. The orchestra was excellent and the principals were very good (the Despina was a little screechy for my taste – and she was a local!) After Cosi closed we were all called to the theater late on Saturday night after the final curtain to strike. Everything has to go – the set has to be taken apart, broken down or stored (depending on the instructions from the Technical Director, who, by the way, is God – and the Stage Manager is God's Principal Angel – one does not question or disobey them – at least when one is back stage). All the props and costumes had to be taken and stored carefully. And backstage had to be picked up. The entire company (except the orchestra!!!) was called to this and it could sometimes turn into a party. But Cosi was not that complex so it didn't take long and I didn't get into trouble this time.
Traviata was then onstage 3 days later (Tuesday morning). We opened on Saturday – so Tuesday and Wednesday were a combination of Sitz probe (singing with the orchestra for the first time), re-working the staging on stage; a Wandelprobe (a "wandering" through the opera staging); tech rehearsals (usually we didn't have to come to the first couple of those – but we did have one of our own – Wednesday night). Then we had a Thursday dress rehearsal – wealthy patrons invited (which means – don't mess up or stop!). We are dark or off on Friday in order to rest our voices and then – Saturday for the opening performance! It was great fun. It all went off without a hitch. This is the case in part because everyone knows and loves Traviata. Not all our openings went as smoothly as this.
