MISS GEIST'S MASTERCLASS, Chapter 1.
FOR a young singer graduating from a Conservatorium of Music, only one postgraduate placing was a guarantee of employment by one of the world's great opera houses, and that was the masterclass of Dr Rannveig Geist. For every place in her elite group there were fifty applicants, and she accepted only the best.
Miss Geist's age was only 29 and she had not been an opera singer herself. But she was a musical genius comparable only to Mozart, and had written her Ph.D thesis on the Grotowski school of acting. She could teach singers musical and dramatic skills they could not get anywhere else.
A new group of conservatorium grads, ages ranging from 17 to 24, were chatting as they waited for Miss Geist to arrive. They were full of anticipation and the joy of just being there. They knew that if they could finish the course, great careers awaited them.
When the famous teacher arrived, they all recognized her long auburn hair and intense dark eyes from photographs. But they were unprepared for her imposing height, and the sheer presence invoked by her long-legged determined stride towards the front of the theatre. Her slim maxi-length dress was black, which was nothing unusual. Black was a traditional rehearsal colour, and over half the young men and women in the hall were in black track suits or black slacks and shirt. But none of the girls was wearing anything like the cut of Miss Geist's gown, with its long draping sleeves and puffed shoulders.
Following behind her was a short blonde woman, approaching 40. She followed like a puppy, scurrying to keep up, then sat at the accompanist's piano, in a corner below the stage. Miss Geist had no need to call for silence. Awe had killed any ongoing conversation as soon as she walked in.
"I'll save the orientation speech till later" Miss Geist said in her slight German-Scandanavian accent. "I want to get you singing as a group right away. You have all been given a set of musical scores. Locate your volume of Mozart ensembles and turn to the Recordare from the Requiem." Nodding towards the piano, she added "Elsa will lead you in."
The accompanist began playing the piano reduction of the orchestral score. But Miss Geist held up a hand and the music stopped. Pointing at a young man, she spoke sharply. "You in the Tenor section. Why are you looking at your neighbour's score? You cannot sing properly that way. Did your books not arrive?"
"I seem to have left that one behind, Ms Geist" he said nervously.
"My name is MISS Geist" she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "And what is YOUR name?"
"Thomas Havel, Miss Geist".
"Come forward, Mr Havel". She opened a cupboard in the wings and took out a copy of the book in question, as Thomas tremulously stepped up to the stage. "I have a copy you may borrow. But it will cost you. Face the class and show me how you bow at the conclusion of a performance."
Thomas turned around and bowed deeply. Miss Geist swung the book and whacked him hard on the behind with it. The class's reaction was to laugh, in surprise but also in relief from the tension of an awkward moment so early in the first lesson. Thomas coloured a little but grinned broadly. He accepted the book with thanks and returned to his seat. Nobody guessed what a salient pointer to the future this little incident was.
The music Miss Geist had told them to sing was really for just four principal singers. But they sang it as a chorus, each section choosing the line that suited their vocal range. At the end, their eminent teacher posed a rhetorical question: "Why does that piece NOT work with more than four voices? To demonstrate, I will have..." - she consulted a list and called the name of one soprano, mezzo, tenor and bass. The chosen students began to come forward. "Place yourselves as you think best, and signal Elsa when you are ready to start".
At the front of the stage, the four students stood in a line facing the class, concert style, and sang the quartet as best they could. All were competent singers and music readers. The result was technically accurate, but dull.
"Why on earth did you stand like that?" she demanded of the quartet. "Because the Requiem is not an opera? But you are training as opera singers. You should learn immediately why opera is superior to all other forms of music. Arrange yourselves as a cross, all of you facing inwards so that you are singing towards each other. And all of you LISTEN to what the others are doing. Now start again."
They repeated the work, which was like a relay, one voice taking over from another, then combining in pairs, then all together. Maintaining eye contact and concentrating on the others' voices as much as their own, they produced an interpretation full of nuance and feeling. The class broke into applause at the end. Everyone realised why they were in this masterclass. With one simple instruction, Miss Geist had improved the performance out of sight. Their awe of her was doubled.
This state of amazement goes a long way towards explaining why there was no outrage or protest at what happened next. Miss Geist commanded the four students to go back to the linear arrangement, facing the class, that they had initially chosen. "You had no idea how to give a good performance. You have come in here with a head full of cotton wool. But you will leave thinking like world-class opera singers. All four of you, pull down your slacks or your jeans!"
Under the force of Miss Geist's personality, and in a trance at just having sung better than they ever had in their lives, the quartet obeyed. The two men unbuckled their pants and let them fall, while one pair of female slacks and one pair of wide-hipped jeans were taken down.
Standing to the left was the mezzo-soprano who had sung the alto part. Miss Geist took up position behind and beside her, then spanked the seat of her white panties, hard. One, two, three, four, five, six smacks with her slender hand. The mezzo gasped in surprise at the first three with wide eyes, and went "Oww! Aaah! Ouch!" at the last three.
The tenor and bass were next in line. Their underpants were similarly spanked, making them frown in confusion, then grit their teeth as it began to hurt. Miss Geist's trumpet sleeve swung vigorously, and both guys were in no doubt she had a strong left arm!
The young soprano at the end had the most time to think, and to absorb what was going on. As Miss Geist stepped towards her she felt butterflies of fear in her stomach. She was wearing a long shirt, and the tall Mistress of Music tucked it up out of the way to smack the back of her pale blue panties. From the first spank, she gave a petulant "Owww!" in protest at the sting, a sound which rose in pitch as each smack landed. At the end of the six, her lower lip trembled as she rubbed her bottom.
"Back to your seats!" came the command. Four singers hastily pulled up their pants and ran for their chairs, doing up belt buckles only when they had sat down. Throughout the whole incident, Elsa had watched from the piano without expression. Clearly this little performance was commonplace to her.
"Listen closely" said Miss Geist firmly. "Opera is a dramatic profession. You must be able to play convincingly a buffoon like Leporello, or a slavegirl like Aida. Men, you may be lashed on stage like Mim in 'The Rhinegold'. Women, you may be tortured like Liu in 'Turandot', or brutally coerced and seduced like Tosca. The drama depends on the degradation of these characters. If you think of yourself as the dignified opera singer with chin held high and puffed-up chest, your performances will be pompous and ridiculous. While correcting your singing and acting techniques, I will knock all such pride out of you. As I have done for many famous names before you."
It was true, the students thought, Miss Geist's proteges were known for bringing great acting as much as musical prowess to the operatic stage. They were also known to be easy to get along with. None of them were stuck-up 'prima donnas' except in the original meaning of the phrase. Was this why? Were they all spanked by this tall imposing woman? And how far would it go? But the number of singers thinking that maybe they should quit the class was zero.
- Link to the music sung in this chapter, if you like that sort of thing:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9kp6pI3Or4
(Nice drawings in this clip too).
