Mexico weekly ledger., 1877-02-22
THE TORTURES OF A MUSICIAN.
/ An Awfal Orchestra Which
Encountered ON the Way to Chicago.


IFrom Ofenbach's Book on America
Besides the many concerts I had
agreed to conduct, there was a promise
to Mile Aimee for some of her peform.
ances in America. Faithful to my
pledge, / took the orchestra leaders
bow in the theater where she was sing
ing in New York, and / believed I had
fulfilled my promise. But when / got
through the Philadelphia concerts, she
told me she vas off for Chicago, and
begged me to play conductor for her
once more at don't name the city,
but it was ON the route to Chicago,
whittier I intended going, and I con-
sented. / got there one morning, and
the evening bill was ola Jolie Par
fumeuse." [ went to the theater for
rehearsal, took my desk, bravely lifted
my bow, and they began. knew the
piece by heart, and what was my sur
prise to hear, instead of the familiar
strains, some strange medley that had
scarcely IN air of acquaintance with
my operetta. Finally I made out the
motifs, but the orchestration was entire
~ new One of the natives had thought
fit to rewrite it. My first impulse was
to leave the rehearsal and throw up the
engagement. But Mdlle. Aimee i'm
plored me not, telling me that | was
chilled" that the public would be an
CRY if did not appear, that the per-
Torrance would be impossible, and so
l gave in. l took up my baton and
started again. What an orchestra that
vast Little, but very bad. OF % mu-
sicians perhaps eight were very good,
six fair, and the rest Wretched. To be
ready for any mishap, I begged a Sec
ond violin to take a drum and I would
give him some instructions in an under
tone. Much good it did. There was
no big drum in the orchestra, let alone
in the orchestration. That was so pit
liable a rehearsal that I renewed my at
tempts to get away. Useless. l had
to stay and see my work-executed.
CIV do it," said, "come what may.
God have mercy on my soul!"
Oh, what a performance that was!
Only one who heard it might describe
it. My two clarinets went "quacki
quacki" straight through-always ex-
cepting where they should have done
SO. In the " Blind Mems March," of
the first act, / had put in some false
notes for the amusing effect. But my
two clarinets-they stopped dead and
counted time. The genius who re-
wrote my music wrote this bit for the
quartet only. Now, at the rehearsal,
l had begged the clarinetists to play
something, no matter what, in these
interspaces, knowing rs / did that the
false notes would come naturally. But
I reckoned without my host, for the
ruffians would not go out of their text.
"There is nothing written" was
what they said. but, gentlemen"
said |, "the 'quacking' you do when
there are no rests isn't written either,
and yet you put your whole heart into
it." Nay, it was impossible TO argue
them down. So much Tor the clarinets.
AS for the hautbOyman, he was an i'm
proyiser who played now and then
when he felt like it. The flute snorted
when she could. The bassoon was
asleep half the time. The violoncello
and the contre-basso, placed behind me,
went out of bounds and furnished an
illegitimate bass. AS l marked time
with my right hand, | hit first the con-
tre-basso's bow, then the v~ioloncellist's.
| sowed false notes broadcast. The
first violin-an excellent ne-wa al
together too hot, and brought the TEN,
perature of the hall up to 40 degrees
(Centigrade). Confound him, he was
always hopping his forehead.
"My friend" said l, in a stifed
voice, &" if you desert me we are lost"
He laid down his handkerchief re-
cS0rnI1r nyI +nnI nv hIc EIH1o p,,t
The tide of cacophony rose and rose. A
thousand false notes-happily, the first
act was ending
BY Jupiter it was a success success
d'enthouStdsn1e!
| thought | was dreaming. But all
was nothing compared to the second
act. You see l had always in my mind
my orchestration, and | turned to the
left to the little flute which, according
to my text, should play a little rentree.
Not much-the drum was in there and
it answered me! My two clarinets,
mighty quackers, had to play, accord
ing to my version, an air in. thirds.
The other fellow had handed over the
air for the fiddles to the cornet-a-piston,
who played false, and to the bassoon
who was asleep all the time. Painfully
we struggled to the close, I in a sweat,
saying to myself we should never get
through. The duo between Rose and
Bavolet went every which way, but it
went ON. The finale takes in the duo.
AS that ends in G l had naturally made
for the entree of Clorinde, who begins
in B major modulations for G sharp, F
sharp and z. The bass became A sharp.
My little harmonic march had been or
chestrated by the great musician of
-, for the two mighty clarinets, the
hautboy that didn't play and the bas-
soon. Hang that bassoon! He slum-
bered more profoundly than [
gesticulated at his neighbor who woke
him up. Would l had let him sleep.
The beast, instead of sounding A sharp
attacked an E sharp with all the vigor
of his lungs.
Five notes too high! The unhappy
actress who was playing Clorinde
naturally followed up there too, but the
orchestra, which did not go into such