The Role of Her Lifetime

Chapter 1 Marie Jacolby read through the form, one more time, to make sure everything was correct: Marie D. Jacolby, Contralto, Graduated from Julliard College of Music, Major: Opera: Voice, Had parts in… Yes, everything was correct and spelled right. Satisfied, she paper-clipped a copy of her printed résumé and her headshot to it. The ads had been hopeful: All roles open. No pre-casting. She had taken a deep breath. Maybe. You could never be sure, but you could always be hopeful. She’d read the flyer that was available at the entrance. There was one part she’d love to get. Hopefully, they’d think she was good enough. Yeah, right. That part was the lead; fat chance of getting it. She’d graduated from Juilliard nine years ago and still hadn’t landed a major role. She always got a part in the chorus and, from time to time, had a few solo lines. A couple times, she’d even gotten a small named part, but never a major role. Of course, most of the major roles went to sopranos. Mezzo parts were usually for character roles or secondary characters. Contralto parts were older women, the mothers or grandmothers. Even the villainous characters played by contraltos were older. There was such type-targeting in operas. Sopranos were the beautiful heroines; baritones were the dashing heroes. Lower voices were lesser characters, and tenors were young men or comic roles. Damn! Am I going to have to wait until I’m fifty to get a good role? She was just over thirty, and the thought of having to wait another twenty years didn’t sit well with her. Of course, the lead role here was a trouser role. Marie had always wanted to play a trouser role: where a contralto or mezzo-soprano plays a young man. Hansel in the opera Hansel and Gretel by Engelbert Humperdinck was one of the more famous ones. She walked to the front of the room where someone watched the schedules and collected résumés. The woman looked over Marie’s forms. “There was a big rush in the last two days, but it’s quieter today. We had a big response from sopranos, but a lot less mezzos, and even fewer contraltos. So your chances are good.” “That’s nice to hear. I wouldn’t mind if it was only a chorus part.” “There are lots of chorus parts, and one of the main characters is a contralto. You never know,” the secretary said. She grinned, almost to herself. “It’s the same as always: have a seat and wait. They’ll probably see you in about a half hour.” Marie smiled in thanks and then turned around and looked at the other people waiting. There were about a couple dozen men, young and old, of all shapes, sizes, and colors. There was only a dozen other women. She walked over and sat beside a woman she’s seen at a lot of open calls and in the choruses of several operas. “How’s it going?” the woman asked as Marie sat down. “It’s the same as always. I spend more time auditioning and have less time to practice.” “I hear you.” She held out her hand. “Jackie Allenson,” she introduced herself. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a chance to talk before, but I know you’ve been in the chorus of several operas.” Marie shook her hand. “Marie Jacolby. It’s nice to finally get to meet you.” “Yes,” Jackie said. “I’ve seen you at chorus rehearsals, but we were always in different groups.” “That’s the thing about chorus parts: you never get to really know anyone.” Jackie sat forward to look around the room. “Sometimes, I wonder why I’m here. I had three auditions last month and got nothing.” “Well, maybe this one will bring you something.” “Oh, God, I hope so. I haven’t had a singing role in almost two years, not even two measures. Don’t you ever get tired of just being listed in the chorus roster?” “Oh, sure,” Marie answered. “But at least it’s something to put on a résumé.” “That’s true, but it would be a lot better to have a role name before it.” She pushed her long golden brown hair back behind her ear. “Something will come.” Marie took a deep breath. “My best friend plays cello. She couldn’t find anything, either. She’s been playing mood music with a quartet at a museum for the last eight or nine years. Then one day, this agent saw her and got her a job advertising perfume. Now everyone wants her to play for them. She’s ending a tour across the country, soloing with a dozen orchestras. She should be home on Sunday.” “Perfume? That wouldn’t be Christine Anthony, would it?” “Yup. That’s her.” “Those ads were fantastically hot.” “Yes, I know. Damn her!” Marie murmured with a frown, kidding. They both laughed. “Have the auditions today been fast, or are they more of a sing-everything-you-know deal?” Marie asked. “I’m not sure. Some have been in there for only a few minutes, but there have been others in there for much, much longer.” Jackie looked at Marie. “I had to laugh at the ads for these auditions, though. They said all the roles were open; that no one had been pre-cast. I seriously doubt that. They always have some dynamite singer in mind for something.” Marie nodded her agreement. “Do you know what the show’s about? I couldn’t really tell from the flyer. The only thing I saw was First Act Prince, contralto/mezzo.” “All I know is that it’s a reworking of Cinderella or something like that. I think they want to send it to Broadway.” “Broadway? Holy cow! Andrew Lloyd Webber and Claude-Michel Schönberg really opened the door for opera-musicals on Broadway. Les Mis and Phantom were wonderful. I understand the contralto part is a trouser role in this one.” They looked up as two men walked out of the back room. The first one said goodbye and left. The other was an audition judge. He talked to the schedule person, picked up a set of papers, and called for one of the men. That man, who had dark hair and a trimmed mustache and goatee, got to his feet and followed the audition judge into the back room.. “I know him,” Jackie whispered. “He’s got a marvelous basso profundo. I imagine he’ll get something. I think the king is a basso.” “Wasn’t he in Rosenkavalier a few years ago?” Marie asked. “Yup. That was him. I couldn’t be in that one. It came right at the time my dad had a heart attack.” “Sorry to hear that.” Jackie laughed. “Don’t worry. He got better. Now he knows he can’t eat a lot of fried foods if he’s going to go hiking in the mountains.” “No,” Marie agreed. “That’s a bad combination.” “Yes, they had to air-lift him out of the mountains. It’s a wonderful thing they had their cell phones with them and the reception was good there. It they’d been three thousand feet higher or five miles further into the mountains, they would never have gotten him out of there in time.” “Wow. I guess we live in the right time. Ten years ago, fewer people had cells. I can’t imagine what they did when something like that came up.” Jackie nodded. “Now he won’t go anywhere without his, and he double-checks the reception at each stop.” Less than five minutes later, the two men walked back out. “That was quick,” Marie said. “They probably know him very well. Maybe he’s one they already cast. He’s just here to make it look good.” They settled back to wait, making small talk and silly observations as they looked around at the other auditionees. Several other men and women were called to audition; some were in there at least five minutes, others much shorter. The audition judge escorted an auditionee out of the back room and stopped to talk to the woman at the desk. He looked around and took a set of papers. Everyone in the room stared at him. “Allenson?” he called. “That’s me,” Jackie said as she started to stand up. “Break a leg,” Marie told her new friend. “Knock ‘em dead.” “Thanks. You, too.” She took a deep breath and walked to the front. She talked to the judge for just a moment, and he took her back to the audition room. Marie sat back and opened a magazine she’d brought with her. Hmmm, she thought, more interesting than I imagined. I should have met her a few years ago. Jackie seemed to be everything Marie looked for in a woman: beauty, brains, talent, and a sense of humor. Marie liked that. She relaxed as best she could to wait.