merrimanlyon | (no subject)

As is usual on gala nights, the opera house is packed with those who are there to see and to be seen. Chances are, there are more than a few individuals present who aren't entirely sure of the opera's name, let alone the composer or date of composition or even the language in which it will be sung.

One particular patron, though, knows all of the above, and has chosen this performance for a specific reason.

Christoph Willibald Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice, first composed in 1762, rewritten in 1774. Not in the original language, though -- the libretto has been rewritten from Italian to French, and the male lead's part rewritten for a high tenor instead of the original castrato. (The Italians were not quite so squeamish about such things, apparently.) But that does not matter so much.

The old story is much the same, as always. The first act opens with Orpheus mourning the loss of his beloved Euridice, surrounded by a chorus of shepherds and nymphs.

'Eurydice, Eurydice, beloved shade, where are you? Your husband weeps, begs the gods for you and asks for you among mortals, yet scattered to the wind are his tears and his laments!'

The god of love, Amor, appears and informs Orpheus that if he can travel to the Underworld and bring back his wife -- on the condition that he does not turn to look at her until they are safely above ground -- the lovers shall be reunited. Orpheus immediately agrees to undertake the quest, resolving that he shall not return without his beloved.

Into the Underworld for the second art, where the Furies at first refuse to let Orpheus in despite his pleas for pity. Only when he begins to play his lyre and let the magic of his music work do the Furies relent, softened by his singing. They let him pass, and he enters the Elysian Fields.

To the accompaniment of a lilting, gentle flute, the Blessed Spirits begin their dance.

None of the girls dancing in the corps de ballet truly look like Mlle Giry. They're all supposed to look the same, indistinguishable figures in identical costumes, all performing with classical perfection. But his gaze is drawn time and again to one of the girls -- blonde, slightly shorter than the others, who is dancing at the end of their line. She looks terribly young to be performing with the full corps on a gala night, but from her poise and grace it is apparent that she has earned her place in the line.

He watches her, with an almost stoic concentration.

The Blessed Spirits dance to the solo flute, fluttering around Euridice, who even in the Paradise of old is still lost without her Orpheus.

He leaves when the dance ends, before Orpheus and Euridice have their reunion. He knows how the story ends -- the opera gives a happy ending to what was originally a sad tale, but he neither needs nor wants to see the ending.

He has somewhere else to be, and so the door that would normally lead out of the private box at the Paris Opera House opens onto Milliways.