The Lost Ballet
Chapter 10 – Costumes and Music
Gwen, Helstof, Roger, and the admin woman sat on folding metals chairs on one side of the stage. The four dancers worked together on the other side. On a folding table was the Stravinsky score, and positioned around the table were the four large white boards on rollers. Selgey, Bart, and the Ps were trying to figure out how to transfer the story notes from the margins of the score to the white boards. The Ps translated the Russian into English, and the other two wrote this down on the boards. It wasn’t going too well because there were so many notes on the score. And Selgey and Bart had to get the story onto the boards in order to start the choreography. Working on the first ballet, the one written by Richard and Anna, Selgey and Bart had developed a method of writing pictograms on the white boards, and then using them to create dance movements. They were going to use the same method now, but they had to figure a way to condense all the Stravinsky notes into a smaller set of pictograms.
Gwen watched the choreographers struggle. That was ok. They would figure it out eventually. What she didn’t like was seeing the score sitting on the table. What if something happened to it? It was one of a kind, and priceless. Gwen said, “We can’t leave the score like that. We have to copy it, and put the original in the safe deposit box. After we’re done with the production, maybe we’ll donate it to some library. College of Charleston Library, or the Charleston Library Society. Either one.”
The admin woman said, “I agree. We can do that. We should the scan the whole thing, have it digitally, and can print out pages whenever we need to. There are places in town that can scan oversize pages like those. Should I do that?”
Gwen nodded yes, said, “As soon as possible. I don’t want Roger spilling a glass of wine on that thing.”
Roger didn’t mind the teasing. Not from Gwen.
Nev and Stirg were in their kitchen, listening to the conversation, not understanding anything yet. They heard Peter saying something about crows, and how the dancers had to be dressed in black. What did that mean? They could hear everything that was being said on the stage at The Hall, but that didn’t mean they could understand the various conversations that were taking place. It was like listening to a TV without the picture.
Stirg said, “I can hear good, but why didn’t you get film?”
Nev said, “Video. It’s called video. I just figured we could learn what they were doing there if we heard them.”
“Well, keep listening then, and tell me what they’re up to. I wanna know.”
Nev wondered if he’d gotten his money’s worth, with just sound. Now he had to sit and listen to this stuff until they said something interesting. He’d rather be hanging with Otis. Outside. Maybe fishing a little.
Helstof said, “Can I bring Gale on board to work with me on the costumes? You know she’s great with clothes.”
Gwen said, “She’s great with clothes, and she’s also great with blabbing her mouth about everything, to everybody. We can’t afford any leaks about this until we get down the road on the production. Maybe we need to hire a professional costume person.”
“Then we’d have the same problem with that person. At least Gale’s one of us. She knows about a lot of stuff we’ve done.” She looked at the admin woman.
“Costumes are not all that difficult, and neither is the lighting, really. If you have great music and great choreography, people will like the other two parts. If confidentiality is really important to you, I would bring in as few people from the outside as I could. Can’t you just tell Gale not to blab, on point of death?”
The word confidentiality caught Nev’s attention. He stopped thinking about Otis, and listened to the computer.
“Maybe we could,” said Gwen. “Maybe we could condition her to keep her mouth shut. I know she’d like to be part of this project, and she learned something important from the episode out in the harbor, with the boats. She learned that people are serious about certain things, and that Stirg is a serious guy. That pretty much scared the shit out of her. We can tell her if she blabs, Stirg will be after her ass again.” Gwen and Helstof smiled. The woman didn’t know what they were talking about, and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Nev knew what they were talking about. He had been part of that episode, out in the harbor, hidden behind Fort Sumter, where Stirg tried to torpedo the Junes and their friends, and send them to the bottom. Stirg failed, getting both himself and Nev dumped on their asses, hard, running their ship onto a sandbar, and having to get pulled off by a tug. Humiliating. Nev remembered all too well. Both he and Stirg had been a little crazy back then. What were these women talking about now? Another scheme, evidently. Project, the June woman called it. First the Hermitage heist in Russia, then Stirg stealing all that stuff from them here in Charleston, and now this. Something new. What?
Roger said, “Let’s talk music for a minute. You said if the music and choreography were great, the costuming and lighting would take care of themselves. We have Stravinsky’s music, which might be great, but who’s gonna play it? Selgey said the score is for a small orchestra. How do we hire a small orchestra, and keep a lid on the production? No way. And if we want world-class, we gotta bring musicians in from out of town. The best. That’s a big problem.”
Nev started to find the conversation interesting. What were they talking about when they said world-class? World-class what? Who’s Stravinsky, a rock band?
From the way Roger was talking, Gwen knew he had something on his mind, and she waited for him to spill it. Helstof had been around the Junes long enough to know how they communicated sometimes. Telegraphically, it seemed. She could sense Gwen was waiting for Roger to take the lead, so she waited, and the woman, ditto.
Roger said, “Do you remember what Richard said when he told us he could write the music for a new ballet? That he had been playing synthesizer for many years, just for his own amusement?” Gwen and Helstof nodded. “Do you remember what he said inspired him to take up the synthesizer, learn to play?” Neither Gwen nor Helstof could remember that, so they didn’t nod. “Richard said it was a song on an album he loved, a long time ago. Said it was the greatest rock song ever written: “Love Reign O’er Me”, by The Who.” Now they nodded. “You know who wrote that song?” he asked. Gwen knew. “Pete Townshend. Wrote the rock opera Quadrophenia. That was a major musical work. He’s still in the business, though not as prolific a song writer now as he was.”
Gwen got the picture. She understood Roger’s thinking. He hadn’t spit it out yet, but she knew where he was going. Wild. Why not?
She said, “You think he would do it?”
“Don’t know. Don’t really know anything about the guy. But I do know that when Paul McCartney organized the tenth anniversary concert, in New York, of the 911 concert he had organized right after the tragedy, Townshend was there, on stage with McCartney. And I also know about the New York City Ballet’s recent premiere of Ocean’s Kingdom, with McCartney scoring the music. Maybe….”
Gwen said, “Maybe what?”
“Maybe we contact Townshend. Tell him what we’re doing. Remind him about what McCartney has done recently. Tell him we’ll pay him a lot of money if he transcribes the Stravinsky score to synthesizer, and performs it live, at the premiere. Try to set up a little competition between him and McCartney.” Roger paused. “You never know what might inspire an artist like Townshend. Remember, this is going to be a modernist ballet, not classical. Why not do the music on synthe, rather than with an orchestra? That’s what Richard was going to do. And Townshend is a master musician. Just listen to Quadrophenia. He could play all the parts Stravinsky wrote for a small orchestra, on the synthe. Transcribe, record, and perform. The genius of Stravinsky, modernized.”
Gwen just smiled. She loved her husband.