| A Composer Sitcom - Episode 1 A New Housemate |
| Disclaimer: This is fiction. Any resemblance the dead composers bear to living people is purely accidental. .. mostly. |
| Hildegard von Bingen, the lone female housemate, has been sent to Food Lion on a grocery mission. Well, she hasn't "been sent," she's agreed of her own free will, but she would rather be at the Natural Foods Market. Unfortunately, J.S. Bach has requested Real Whipping Cream for a cake, and "he's the only one I'd go to Food Lion for." So there she is, wandering down the aisles with her basket, looking suspiciously at the imitation cheese products and non-fair-traded teas, wondering what heathens spend their hard-earned money on such rubbish....Then she bumps into a person.
Hildegard: Oh - excuse me! (A buxom brunette looks very apologetic.) Brunette: I'm so sorry - I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.. this is what happens when you let the music types out into the food store.. Hildegard: Music types - that explains why I ran into you - I'm one myself. Brunette: you are? Musician? Teacher? Composer? Hildegard: Ah.. mostly composer.. singer. Brunette: Me too! (they continue talking, it turns out that our strange brunette is none other than Barbara Strozzi, an aspiring singer and composer in town looking for job (and housing) opportunities. Hildegard immediately invites her to stay "in our house.") Strozzi: Oh.. you're sharing..? Hildegard: A bunch of good for nothing men - well, they mostly have aspirations as composers also, but.. (shakes head) I could use some more female common sense about the house. Strozzi: A bunch of male musicians? (raised eyebrow) That could be interesting.. Hildegard: Well some of them work... (frowns in recollection) some of them don't... Strozzi(amused): How many are there? Hildegard: Oh.... enough so that the split rent is affordable for those who don't work.. Strozzi: Now you've got me interested... Hildegard: Please, why don't you stop by sometime and I'll show you around.. ? Strozzi: Sounds good.. (And so information is exchanged, Strozzi agrees to stop by Tuesday afternoon, and Hildegard finds the heavy whipping cream. All is good.) Tuesday afternoon at the house; the house in a picturesque suburban neighborhood with plenty of green grass and room on the street for parallel parking in the gutters. The sort of neighborhood where basketball hoops dot driveways and girlscouts roam from house to house selling cookies, and people decorate their gardens with stone rabbit statues. The sort of neighborhood that needs a dozen starving, jobless composers crammed into one house, with 6 cars crammed into the lawn before the house. Strozzi parks three houses down and walks up, rings the doorbell. Inside, Modest Mussorgsky has possession of the living room. Beer bottles crowd the coffee table before the sofa where he lounges. To the casual observer, he might appear to be passed out drunk, but he is really very involved with the show on TV. Muss: NAHhh you tellem Blanche!! not goina take anyo that crap from him!! (bell rings) ahhh crap whossthat? (wanders into foyer, opens door) Hithere. Strozzi(smiles): Hello, I .. was visiting Hildegard, is she home? (Hildegard appears from around Mussorgsky, pushes him aside) Hildegard: Come in! Don't be afraid, it's just Modest. He's harmless, as long as no one tries to turn off Judge Judy.. (leads her in, is about to avoid the living room and go left into the piano room, but she notices Robert Schumann on the carpet under the baby grand, experimentally tapping the underside of the piano with a yardstick. She leads Strozzi straight ahead towards the kitchen.) Strozzi: Here's our kitchen..AH, hello JS - Bach(cooking pot of soup): Hello - friend in town? Hildegard: (proudly) Barbara, let me introduce you to Johann Sebastian Bach. He's our responsible, independent and reliable housemate. Strozzi(shakes his hand): Am I to gather that you are the only responsible, independent, and/or reliable housemate? Bach: Oh.. you have to give Hildegard some credit.. or else who would trust her judgment of me ? (winks at Hildegard, who rolls her eyes) Hildegard: I didn't say you were the only one.. The rest of us have these qualities in varying degrees.. Anyway, Barbara is thinking about moving in- Bach: Oh - you'd better show her the bedroom situation first then. Strozzi(smiles): Oh, that bad?? Hildegard: .... Maybe you're right.. Come, let's see the rest of the house.. (exeunt) They head upstairs, where a long, blue-carpeted hallway awaits them - Suddenly a young man throws open the bathroom door and storms into the hall. He has black hair, a bit of a goatee, and his face is covered in a bright orange substance. He looks like a jack-o'-lantern and he smells of nachos. Tchaikovsky(yells down hall): WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART!! DID YOU PUT CHEEZ WHIZ IN MY ORANGE-YOGURT EXFOLIATING SKIN MASK BOTTLE AGAIN!!!? (The call is answered by raucous cackling from inside one of the bedrooms.) Tchaik: What am I going to DOOO with him!! (turns around - ) OH! Hildegard! - what- Hildegard: ah - hi Pyotr.. This is Barbara - Strozzi(trying not to laugh): Hello Tchaik(confused): What? I thought today was -- oh no! Is it TUESDAY already?! AGH, I have that BRAT to teach at 330! You must excuse me - I can't be teaching piano lessons smelling like imitation cheese product!! (throws up hands in frustration, then disappears back into the bathroom.) Hildegard: Agh - Wolfgang!! (Opens second door on left - there is a large room with four beds, bunked in pairs. At the top of one bed they can see a mess of reddish-orange hair - it belongs to Mozart, who sits up and peers over side, grinning.) Mozart: Don't you think the Cheez Whiz face mask could make a fortune? You could eat it when it was done! Hildegard: I don't see that being very effective and edible, Wolfgang. Mozart(notices Strozzi, hops down in one swift motion): Hello - you didn't tell me you had company coming over today, Hildegard.. Maybe I would have used Pyotr's face mask instead of hiding it in the refrigerator. Hildegard: Refrigerator! What if someone tries to eat it?! Mozart: Then his insides will be exfoliated? Strozzi: Nice to meet you, Wolfgang, I'm Barbara. (they shake hands) Hildegard: Barbara is a composer and singer. She is thinking about moving in with us. Mozart: Oh you sing! Soprano? Strozzi: Yes. Mozart: I thought you looked like a soprano. Strozzi: Oh? Is that bad? Mozart: No no! I just always imagine the soprano - the female lead - to be bright-eyed, charming - Hildegard(looks as if she about to beat Mozart): Yes, Wolfgang - do you have anything significant to say about the housing situation here? Mozart: "Significant"? (laughs) No, if you want significant, you'd better go talk to Richard.. (grins) But you must excuse me, I must write.. (climbs up to bed) Sudden strike of inspiration - can't imagine why (winks at Strozzi, then disappears back over side) Strozzi: Hah, let's see what this Richard has to say about the house situation. Mozart: I think he went outside to accost Ludwig about the state of his laundry..?? Hildegard: Oh dear... let me show you the other rooms first, Barbara.. (exeunt) Soon the two are going back downstairs: Strozzi: So.... you only have three bedrooms? Hildegard: Hadn't I mentioned that? But it's not so bad. Strozzi: Hmm, bunk beds... Do you burn your manuscripts to stay warm in the winter too? Hildegard: Some people burn their manuscripts on a regular basis anyway. But I was saying, it isn't so bad - Richard and Franz are out more than once a week... (frowns judgmentally), and Ludwig never seems to actually sleep in the room. Modest just stays on the couch more often than not.. (Suddenly a loud pompous voice rings forth from the kitchen) Voice: WHAT IN GOD'S NAME -(cough)-- CHICANE--(cough)-CHICANERY!---!!! (gagging and coughing sounds) Hildegard: (confused look to Strozzi) Strozzi: The.... face mask? Hildegard: Oh no... (They run to the kitchen, where a short man with expensive-looking clothes and a mauve beret is hunched over the sink gagging. A small tupperware container of orange yogurt sits innocuously on the counter.) Hildegard: Oh Richard! This is FACE MASK! (takes container as if he is in danger of ingesting more of it.) Wagner(spins around angrily): RAGH?? WHO -- (tries to clear throat) WHO PUT IT THERE?! Hildegard: Wolfgang - but- Wagner: IMP! (snatches tupperware from Hildegard, storms out) Hildegard: Ah - MEN! Always reacting violently -what can you expect? Strozzi: (laughing) How does anyone get any work done around here? Hildegard: I go out back to meditate. I think Ludwig does the same thing, and Robert too, when he's not... in one of his .. more experimental moods.. Strozzi: Oh, I'd like to see the yard. Hildegard: That might be wise.. (They go back into the hallway) Through that doorway is the den (pass the staircase) Here's our other bathroom (gestures to one of the three doors on left), laundry room, furnace... and here's the door to the porch. And out here... You can see our spacious yard. (they walk out - are greeted by a simple concrete porch ("Hello"); a row of bushes lines the yard on all sides, and a few mature maples grow in the far end of the yard. At the foot of one such tree are two men: one sitting Indian-style, one standing and gesticulating as he speaks.) Hildegard: Here's Robert and Ludwig.. I wonder what they're discussing..? Probably something of philosophical import. (they approach cautiously) Schumann: ...he moved rook to G5. I said to him, "My friend, you have the compositional foresight of the mighty eagle, but this chess strategy I'd liken more to the diligent digging of the near-sighted mole!" Beethoven: (chuckle) I'm sure he appreciated that. Schumann: So naturally I parried the would-be attack, but do you know what THEN took place?! Hildegard: No, Robert, what happened? Schumann: The cunning devil took my knight with some PAWN! It was all a scheme to get me ruffled, you see, because... well, I concede, it happens from time to time - but-- (realizes Strozzi is new) I'm sorry - you haven't introduced your friend. Hildegard: Yes, Robert, Ludwig (he stands) This is Barbara - a singer and composer. She is thinking about moving in. Schumann: Excellent! The more the merrier. Beethoven(darkly): Good luck. Hildegard: No one has objected.. yet. Beethoven: ... Antonio. Schumann(cheerful): Oh yes - she should meet Antonio! Hidlegard: ah, well.. he's at work. Strozzi: I don't think I'll ever meet everyone at this rate! Schumann(philosophically): Yes, that's also possible. Hildegard: We'll let you two get back to your conversation.. I don't want to overwhelm her. (Hildegard and Strozzi walk back inside; discussing the housing possibilites. They wind up at the front door) Hildegard: So .. whom haven't you met yet? (goes through mental list) Ah. the insurance agent.. the misogynist, the playboy..... is that it? Oh, and Antonio, who defies categorization of any sort. Strozzi: Playboy, misogynist, and an insurance agent.. could be an opera..or a bad joke! Hildegard: It is a joke, really - I don't know how we - (front door opens, and a short fellow with longish, blondish hair and a UPS box walks into Strozzi) Brahms: Oph!-- sorry- Hildegard(scowls): I don't know how we manage! Are you OK? Strozzi(trying not to laugh): It's all right - I'm fine Brahms(notices Strozzi, extends free hand): I'm sorry, we don't seem to have met - I'm Johannes. (mock apologetic) I hope you haven't been living here long?? Strozzi: hah, I haven't moved in just yet- Hildegard(pointedly): Yes, and hopefully she won't be so horrified of our various and sundry housemates as to run off and never come back! Brahms(ignores Hildegard): Ah, right. Well if you need any help, Miss..? Strozzi: Barbara- Hildegard: yes, go on - (waves at Brahms to move past; he smiles graciously and goes into the house) Honestly, the ridiculousness I have to deal with on a daily basis around here.. Strozzi(amused): So let me guess - he's the playboy? Hildegard: Oh God no- he's the misogynist! (Strozzi laughs; Hildegard adds significantly) The playboy is tall. Strozzi: You seem to be a very... eclectic bunch.. Hildegard: Yes, and you still haven't met them all. You could come back another time and meet the "night shift" - since some of them are at work now - if you dare. Strozzi: haha - I don't mind. They seem friendly enough. Besides, we're all musicians.. kindred spirits. Hildegard: And the cost is split up very well.. Strozzi: Yes, let me get in touch with you later in the week. Hildegard: all right - I'll propose to the group tonight -- if I can get them to stay in one room long enough...... Strozzi: good luck! Bye! (exit) At precisely 5:30, the front door is flung open, and a short, dwarvish-looking fellow stalks in. He has a peculiar gait and rather deformed hands - you can see as he grips his briefcase that the right hand is lacking the 3rd and 5th fingers. He is also scowling fit to match his features. Zacara: Who parked in MY spot!? (Mussorgsky stumbles out of the living room and shoves an envelope at him) Mussorgsky: I think thismails for you.. god condemn it all but i cant keep straight all these bloody mails of yours.. but i dont know who else theyd be for living in this house.. whothehell is "Magister Zacherias" supposedto be?! Zacara(snatches letters from him): That's for me, thanks. Haven't you read any Latin before?? Mussorgsky: Whatsso great about Latin that you can get "Magister Zacherias" out of Antonio Zacara?!Since whenare you supposedta be "master" of anything?? Zacara(exasperated sigh, turns away, conversation concluded): WHO PARKED IN MY SPOT!? (storms off toward kitchen) I had to park in front of the damned Hickmans'! And of course he came out and said "Why you're looking well today, little Anthony!" I'll smack him - (goes into kitchen, wrenches open the refrigerator door and takes a diet Coke. Wagner is sitting at the table with a notebook and pen - he looks up frowning as Zacara downs half the Coke in one swig.) Wagner: Antonio, must you make such a fuss always? Zacara: I see no one bothered to start cooking yet! (Brahms wanders in, mills about, looks in the pantry aimlessly.) Wagner: Some of us are trying to write. (The front door can be heard - a cheerful voice rings out "I'm HOME, Children!") Zacara: You starving Romantics might be able to survive without food, but some of us WORK. Hildegard(leans in kitchen doorway): I thought you'd be home, Antonio - complaining already? Zacara: Am I the only one who eats in this household?? No one's started cooking and it's going on 6 o'clock! (Enter Ives, a completely average-looking American who at this precise moment appears as though he's just been told that no, it was a mistake - he hasn't won the lottery after all.) Ives: What! No dinner..!? Brahms(from pantry): A man's entitled to come home and have his dinner on the table! Ives: That's right, Johannes! Hildegard: Ohhhhh - you - insufferable!-- Zacara(turns on him): I don't want to hear it from YOU- what do YOU do all day? YOU should be cooking! Brahms: Much as it would be a blessing to us all, I don't mean to kill you, Antonio.. I am making my hasty retreat even now! (walks out) Hildegard: Of course, be it below the alpha male to learn how to cook! Zacara(grumbles): Good God, I don't know how these people survive... Brahms(back in doorway): I encourage you to discover the Granola Bar, my friend. (holds up said bar as if it's a Mentos roll, then disappears again; Hildegard glares after him.) Ives(shakes head): I don't understand how they can live off Granola Bars and beer! Zacara: Incompetent! (Brahms can be heard elsewhere: "Somebody shut them up and FEED them!!") Wagner(stands abruptly, scraping his seat against the tile floor): I beg your pardon, gentlemen! - I cannot write in peace with all this caterwauling! (storms out, nearly walks into Bach as he does.) Bach(good naturedly): Ah, sorry, Richard! hah - I see it's dinner time - and what do you two think you are doing? (Zacara and Ives are bustling about the counter and pantry.) Ives: Trying to make an honest-to-goodness meal in less than an hour! Bach: Go set the table, I've already thawed out chicken.. Mushroom chicken, I was thinking. I'd have already started it, but you know how these five o'clock services go.. no one wants to be there.. everyone's hungry... Zacara: Ah yes.. And so this is to be it? The three working members of the household have to come home and cook their own dinner? I feel like a regular liberated woman having to do everything myself around here! Hildegard: .... Yes, Antonio,and if you're not careful they'll start paying you 70% of what you're currently making! Bach: We'd better cook fast, Charles - or they'll tear apart the house at this rate..! Ives: I know! (They can hear the front door open and close quickly - then Mussorgsky yelling) Mussorgsky: Whaddryou wearing scarf and gloves for its too damned hot for that you think youre Katherine Hepburn?! Hildegard: Franz must be home. (Liszt appears in the doorway, tall and elegant - although he looks a bit out of breath) Liszt: Ah -good evening, all. I'm afraid I won't be joining you for dinner tonight.. I have a date. Zacara: You think we were counting on you NOT to have a date? Liszt: (smile) And I appreciate your confidence in me, but I have to run and get ready! (darts off again) Hildegard: Impossible. I'll never get you all together to make my announcement. Bach: What - oh, about Barbara? I don't see how you could possibly be worried that Franz will object.. Hildegard: Sad but true.. I suppose I'll wait until after dinner. Bach: I don't think anyone will object - it's already a madhouse in here.. one more isn't going to cause any trouble.. Zacara: What - another housemate? Where's he going to sleep!? Hildegard: SHE - "Barbara" - it's a she! Zacara: Oh well - I didn't want to make false stereotypical gender assumptions based on name! Hildegard(sighs): You people are impossible when you're hungry! (exit) |
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