The San Francisco call., 1897-04-04

FAT wants exactly ten minutes to s
NJ o'clock, and the stage manager of the
1G French Opera Company is standing
behind the curtain, a big carpenters ham
mer in one hand and gold watch in the
other, counting the minutes, in order not
TO miss the right one to give three strokes
on the boards for the overture to "Rigo-
letto" 10 commence l have been warned
that it would be well 10 keep out of the
way of the stage manager-his temper is
not as mild and sweet as honey, and he
hates TO admit strangers into his domain.
But 1t is no use; the stage manager has
singled me out among the crowd of cory
phees, chorus-singers and men in armor
who are strolling about, arm in arm, as
unconcernedly as If thy were at prom
enade concert. His lynx eyes detect me
treading on an electric wire and brushing
against the gauzy skirts of the pretty Ital-
ian dancer, Mile. de Biazi. There is moth
ing for it but an introduction and explana-
tions. ''Nou can remain, but certainly"
his lips remark. His surprised look seems
g. to say: "These Americans-what will
they not do mex? Could she not have
written up the performance from before
the footlights? Quest ce qu'elle fait dams
cette galere-ci?"
Bang, bang, bang The stage manager
pounds on the stage with his hammer q
la mode Franchise and the orchestra re-
spends with the opening bars OF "Rigo-
letto." | make a hasty descent into the
wings among the crowd of people who
form part OF the army necessary TO pro-
duce grand opera. Here is NJ. d dAlle-
sandri, the ballet standing by the
head electrician, swapping his fingers and
waving his cane to the coryphees who are
forming into line, smiling toward the cur
tain and giving demure side glances in
his direction, like the Queen in Hamlet"
with 'one dropping and one auspicious
eye." Here ale the shoemaker ready to
put in q stitch at any moment, costumer
waiting to repair a rent and q crowd of
other helpers whose special missions l
have not time to ask for, for the principals
are beginning to assemble.
Albers, in his testers Dress towers
above every one else in the wings; Massart,
gorgeous in the costume of the Duke OF
Msntua, sallies forth from his dressing
room singing part of the garden scene al
the top of his voice. He is followed by
quiet little woman, as demure in her dress
as he is resplendent. 1t is Nine. Massart,
aud every look and touch shows that she
idoliZes her tenor. She smooths down
the satin Of his doublet, to be sure that il
is not creased, tenderly pats the little
points OF his collar and hastens to shake
out bit of lace that has become dis
arranged. When there is nothing more
that can possibly be done to his toilet
she gazes at him in silent sdoration, occa-
sionally rendering him a little tin cup,
from which he takes sip OF the contents.
Massart receives the homage as matter
OF course. He sees nothing but himself
hears nothing but himself, as he strolls up
and down The coulisses, testing those in
flexible knee joints of his, which are more
rigid than ever tonight in their castings O..
white leather. "Ta, ia, ia, warb!es Mas
sart shifting from one loot to another
All! but the opera has begun. Massart is
going too lar even for popular tenor. Is
1t permissible for him to break upon the
actual performance that he may test his
notesf The stage manager rushes up with
indignant protest written on the very cur
of his mustache. "C'est commence, eh I"
he hisses at the warbling Massart, point
Ing to the stage. He still holds the big
hammer. He could brain Massart with
ease, but the tenor is used 10 such en-
counters. He looks straight through the
stage manager with a cold and CLASSY
stare, as if he and his hammer were a pane
OF glass, and Massart takes deep interest
IN something that he could perceive
through them in the far far distance.
Nine. Massart hastens to her tenor's side
with the TIN cup, burnt over the gas. Mas
sart quafis sip of the nectar and marches
on the stage TO the sound OF applause
from the other side of the footlights
No one seems to demonstrate with Mile.
Berthet, who is trilling away in her loce
as gsyly as lark. They tell me that he
soprano leggero is a favorite with every
one in the troupe, but the most popular
OF all the prima donnas is Andree Savine,
who has just entered, wrapped in furs
and followed by little yellow dog. She
Is made up for the stage and wears thick
black veil through which her glorious
ewes shine like luminous stars. II play
madeleine" she remarks, half plthc.i-
cs!iy the part is so disagreeable because
Made!eine does not come on till late and
am ilted before 1t is the hour to sing"