Over the yearsI’d taken part in any number of Fundraisers and Benefits for theatres, churches and various service organizations needing help in topping up their coffers or celebrating a special occasion. Some were minimally organized, put together by well-meaning but clueless volunteers; more often than not they were maddeningly haphazard, thrown-together affairs with a catch-as-catch-can array of “acts”, folks doing their “party pieces” to varying degrees of success. Missing-the-mark-performances were usually forgiven because, after all, it was “for a good cause”. Sometimes I was one of many, but occasionally I was the “headliner” and treated with a degree of deference. But there was always a sense of shoddiness about them and I usually left feeling slightly unsatisfied or, in some cases, just a wee bit embarrassed.
The Edmonton Opera’s 25th Anniversary Gala was in another league altogether! There were clues. To begin with, it was an impressive Artist Roster! Richard Margison, Mark Pedrotti and Louis Quilico were the men; Joanne Kolomeyjec, Jean Stillwell, Heather Thompson, Judith Forst and Carol Neblett were the ladies. David Agler was the conductor and the Edmonton Opera Chorus and Edmonton Symphony Orchestra rounded out the performers. I was to “play” the Host, ‘H.R.H. Prince Orlofsky’.
My next clue as to the tenor of this event was being met at the airport by a town car and whisked off to the hotel where I would be staying on and off for the next few days. (I would have to fly back to Manitoba in the middle of the Gala preparations to do a long-arranged concert in the hinterlands for one night and then fly back to Edmonton.) As I was organizing myself in the hotel room there was a delivery of an immense basket of fruit. Clue number Two! I was again picked up and taken to the EOA offices to meet with General Director Robert Hallam and Artistic Director of the Company Irving (Guttman) for a script meeting. I’d met and enjoyed Rob a few months earlier doing “Pirates”. He was a meticulous, dapper man with a slightly preppy air about him, incredibly organized and business-like. His input into the script I’d written was very detailed and he insisted on outlining a minute-by-minute breakdown of how the evening was to unfold, being very specific about what he did and didn’t want in the intros and patter. For the next two hours, Irving and I sat in an office and altered the script to meet Rob’s requirements. Irving wasn’t very much help; after all he was used to staging a show, not writing it. He seemed somewhat preoccupied and couldn’t remember from one minute to the next what we had just changed; but we ploughed through and came up with something that pleased Rob.
I walked the short distance back to the hotel in the beautiful Northern Alberta Fall afternoon. I kept thinking how my life had come to this point, how satisfied I was that I had acquired some “cred” in this business and was now being trusted with guiding the performance to come. While away, a huge arrangement of orchids had been delivered to my room along with “swag” from the Opera including comps to the event, perfume, buttons, pins, stickers, a sweatshirt and apron emblazoned with the Gala logo and a detailed schedule of the event and the time leading up to it. Clue Number Three! There was also a hefty cheque from the Company covering the fee for the CBC broadcast of the event. This was unexpected and another indication of the classy tone of the event. Usually one had to wait forever for a CBC payment when they were involved but the EOA had taken care of it in advance. AND there was another envelope filled with cash … twenty twenty-dollar bills! It was our per diem! Richard Margison told me later that when he’d opened the envelope he thought he’d received Carol Neblett’s per diem by mistake.
The first rehearsal was a reunion of sorts. Having made friends with them a few months earlier, the Chorus folk welcomed me back with open arms, so I felt very much at home and rather comfortable. There was nothing to prove and I just jumped in and did my thing. I pranced and danced and gestured my way through the script much to everyone’s delight and managed to bring everything down a peg or two. There is a tendency, I fear, to get far too stiff and formal during these affairs and I felt that “MY party” (after all, it WAS my party – as the ‘Prince’) should be fun. I did my best to take the edge off the rigid quality that was permeating the proceedings. While the Chorus folk got off on my antics some of the “stars” were surprised at how antic I was. I had worked and become friends with Heather Thompson before so felt free to be a bit glib in my introduction of her. When I announced that she had first performed with EOA in 1967 (21 years earlier – which unintentionally spoke to the lady’s age) she screamed out a huge “OH MY GOD!!!” from the wings! That broke everyone up … including myself. Needless to say, on the night, I covered my mouth when I mentioned the year. I was somewhat irreverent in my intros and no one was immune. At a break, David Agler, the conductor, came up to me and asked me how I could deal with the Divas that way. “They’re just people”, I said. I think that set him back a bit but he smiled and patted me on the shoulder.
There are degrees of “diva-ness”. In our group for this Gala, there were some really Down Home Divas, artists who have no pretense or airs about them. Judy, Joanne and Jean were approachable girl-next-door types who would guffaw and carry-on with the best of them. Heather was, to me, a Glamour Diva who wore her considerable talent and her beauty easily … it was just who she was and thought nothing more of it than that. Carol Neblett was another type of diva altogether. I don’t know if she considered doing this show in “the boonies” beneath her but I got the impression that she expected a certain degree of deference from all who came within her sphere. I wasn’t about to kowtow to anyone. Irving and I had come up with an entrance for her that started with her laughing off stage, entering and having a little chatter with me at down center. Well, she didn’t like that idea at all and had a few quiet words with Irving, rather insistent quiet words, I observed, off to one side. The entrance was changed and the “intro” became an “extro”, back announced, so to speak. I think she expected the audience would just naturally recognize her and erupt into applause when she came on stage. I wasn’t too sure of that but it wasn’t my concern at the moment. The Chorus would be arranged at tables about the stage to lead the applause and the audience would catch on and join in … theoretically. At points during the rehearsal Carol would come up to me and re-explain why she wanted the entrance to be the way she insisted it be. “Oh course. Whatever you want, dear” was my diplomatic response. Irving asked me to tone the ‘Prince’ down a wee bit (I was having too much fun, I guess), Rob was pleased and that was it.
Early the following morning, I caught a plane back to Winnipeg and after checking my mail at home and picking up my tux we (Ross Houston and I) drove out into the hinterlands for the evening presentation of “Schubert Alley”. It was fortunate that we had the radio on as it was only by hearing a mention of our performance on the local CBC station that we learned the venue (AND TOWN!) had been changed! We drove another half hour to the next town and let our manager know our displeasure at not being kept informed! It was a bit of a jolt being in a converted movie theatre and singing Musical Theatre after the previous evening’s fare and venue, but our show was well-received and uncomplicated. Drove back to Winnipeg that night, grabbed a few hours of sleep and then it was back to Edmonton in the morning. I was once again whisked off to the hotel to change into suitable garb for the Gala Brunch. In the car, Office Assistant Trish told me that the rehearsal I’d missed the night before had not been all light and love. A lot of tension had filled the air with everyone becoming more and more anxious as they addressed spacing problems, the lighting, the costumes, the sound, the cueing all with the Chorus Master reading in for me. It was after midnight before they got out apparently. Now, with everyone (including me still vibrating from the flight) slightly frazzled, it was off to the Gala Brunch with Board Members, Artists and Opera Staff at the home of a multi-millionaire. EOA certainly was not guilty of letting its talent lie dormant for a minute in all this.
I don’t get easily impressed. But the Sandy McTavish Mansion on a cliff overlooking the Saskatchewan River Valley had me gobsmacked! Sandy’s “wife” (none of us thought they were married for some reason) had been told that she would be hosting “a diva”. As soon as Carol walked through the door, our hostess began gushing! She was manic and a little crazed. “I was told I was going to meet a Diva! I’ve never met one before!” she screamed. Everyone smiled pleasantly but I could see our group catching each other’s eyes and scanning the ceiling as we stifled our laughter.
All of us were overwhelmed by the enormity and grandeur of the place. We were ushered into what was called “the pool (as in “table”, not “swimming”) room”. The ceilings were over thirty feet high and the entire space was filled with every kind of tropical plant, hanging in pots from the ceiling, on the floor in huge pots, rubber plants bigger than I have ever seen before, palmettos and floral beds that lined the pathways with tables set for six dotted through the undergrowth. It was like a resort hotel! Apparently this was where royalty spent down-time when they came to Alberta.
Something odd happens to performing artists when they are taken out of their natural habitats (theatres, bars or restaurants at meal breaks) and put into formal social settings. This was one of those occasions. Everyone suddenly becomes very stiff and proper, acting as if they were in a Sheridan Restoration play and quite unlike themselves with polite smiles pasted on their faces. Fortunately, I was sitting with Heather and Judy, Rob’s wife Sydney, the President of the Board and David Agler, our conductor. Between Judy and Heather and me, we managed to keep things light and chatty (until, unfortunately, we got onto the topic of “Free Trade”). Two hours of that was more than enough and, once the wonderful food had been eaten and our still gushing hostess thanked us all for coming, we all headed back to hotel to rest up for the performance.
I had the stage to myself for a half hour before things started. Wireless mics were somewhat new back in those days and it was a weird sensation to hear my voice echoing through the empty concert hall. I went through all my intros to dispel my nervousness and I’m glad I did. While practicing I introduced “Heather Thompson” as “Heather Paterson”, a close friend from Winnipeg! That would have been disastrous! I’d classed ‘Orlofsky” up a bit and prepared myself for a bit of “winging it” with some of the conversations I was to have with some of the artists. Louis Quilico worried me because he was prone to say just about anything … he was a great story-teller and would go on forever about “the old days”. The evening finally started with a Lobby reception at 7:30. At 8:00 the “Performance” began and was to be followed by a ‘Presentation’ to the main sponsors in the first balcony attended by the “premier ticket holders” and then a “Midnight Supper” on the stage starting at 11:00. It was going to be a long night!
Just before the show some publicity photos of ME (!) were taken by the Edmonton newspapers. Why me I have no idea especially considering all the Opera stars at hand, but that’s who ended up on the masthead in the paper the following day (see above). Perhaps it was a wise diplomatic move on the part of Management. After all, who could they have possibly chosen among all those Divas without incurring certain degrees of resentment! There was no anxiety or pacing backstage before the show. Everyone was in a good mood. They stood about and laughed and chatted at dressing room doors looking glamorous and attractive. Carol was the personification of the “Diva” in a shimmering white gown and her blond hair. The Chorus folks, who had been beautifully costumed in ball gowns and tuxedos, were artfully arranged about the stage at tables with glasses of champagne. While the Overture played before the curtain rose I wandered about joking and wisecracking with them just to get everyone in a festive mood. The curtain went up as they sang a toast to the host (ME!) and the first half flowed like silk. After Judy Forst sang her aria, I escorted her off stage as Carol made her entrance. It was a good thing the Chorus folk started to applaud when she came on as I don’t think anyone in the audience knew who she was. But she sang and, justifiably, the house went wild. I came on from the wings applauding as she took bow after bow both to the audience and the chorus. As I came closer to her, she started walking toward me. I thought she had changed her mind about chatting but she extended her hand which I took, did one of the deepest curtsies I’ve ever seen, rose, stepped closer to me, kissed me on both cheeks and was gone as the audience applauded wildly once more. Classy with just a hint of “See? My way was better!”
Louis was next. I introduced him and he entered and stood at the top of the staircase. He hemmed and haa-ed in seeming confusion but finally came down to the terrace level. I found out later that my stand-in the night before had gone UP the stairs to him to talk. He went on incoherently about his relationship to his son (Gino) and their performing together. After his aria, Richard Margison got in some digs when I suggested that he and I should sing the duet from “The Pearl Fishers”, and Mark Pedrotti got some laughs when I told him that I’d auditioned once for ‘Figaro’ in “Barber” but didn’t get the part to which he responded telling me “that was a close shave”. Yeah, Opera humour!
My on-stage job was pretty well done by then. Rob and Irving came out and thanked the audience and the Chorus sang “Va Pensiero” from Verdi’s “Nabucco”, a glorious piece of music in which I, as ‘The Prince” sat and luxuriated. The evening ended with the whole cast doing the “Champagne Chorus” from “Fledermaus” as balloons fell from the ceiling on the audience and everyone on-stage took very awkward bows. I was then whisked (lots of “whisking” going on over the past few days!) up to the balcony STILL as ‘The Prince’ to host the Sponsor presentation and then back down to the stage to host the dinner, welcoming, in a receiving line with Opera officials and my “attendants” (read “Opera Staff”), the preemie guests to the stage and thanking them for coming and to make themselves at home. The truth of the matter is that I wasn’t sure where the line between reality and Theatre was drawn. The program had indicated that the whole affair was being hosted by “H.R.H. Prince Orlofsky” (my actual name being listed further down in the program as a “Special Guest”. To my amazement, the dinner guests were responding to me as “The Prince” with bows and curtsies. But I continued to play the part. I spent part of the dinner going from table to table asking if everything was to their liking. Some folks actually stood as I interrupted their meals to say all was wonderful. To this I don’t know if they were aware of what was really going on!
Backstage I stopped to bid farewell to the cast. Carol, after all her fussing and to-do, was especially effusive about the evening and Judy expressed a hope that we might “work” together again. Mark asked me if I was doing ‘Orlofsky’ in EOA’s “Fledermaus” the following season (I wasn’t – it had already been cast) and with a huge thanks to Rob and Irving I was off into the night. The next morning I was greeted with my face on the masthead of the Edmonton Journal and a glowing review of the evening. If nothing else, that would set the audience straight on what they had experienced the night before.
It was an exhausting few days, but ultimately deeply satisfying! To served to remind me again that thanks to passionate and committed artists, even in the dry, bottom- line-oriented business aspect of the arts, somehow, a tenuous Magic always manages to insert itself and, if only for a few hours now and then, lifts us all above the banalities and hum-drummery of everyday life. And, my friends, is a very good thing!
After a small trip to Portland, I settled in to a Winnipeg Winter and prepared myself for the onslaught of work for MTC and Rainbow that would carry me through another year. And then … yet again … there was Jack Shapira!!