Richard Wagner: Redecorating Revolutionary
Muss: ugh. Do I have a headache? .........I do... (rubs temples) How is this possible? ....I need a drink. (pauses, pinching bridge of nose, frowns) Ok.... (looks at clock: 9:03, frowns, reaches for vodka bottle: it is empty. drops it again) Oh..... (He moves, puts feet on floor, leans over) God... Has to be psychological. (Suddenly looks over at the sound of the doorbell and Wagner's pounding feet; he scowls as Wagner stops in the foyer, opens door with flourish.)
Wagner: Miss Bertha! My dear!
Bertha(a pleasant-looking woman, late 30s): I'm so happy that you've found funding, Mr. Wagner!
Wagner: Never should you have feared in the first place, madam, for you know you are at the top of my list of artists to whom I would donate what little money I have...
Bertha: I am no artist, Mr. Wagner, merely a practical career woman, and that is why I insist on being paid! But come, let us not speak of these matters now. Where did you want me to install the furnishings?
Wagner(disappears from Mussorgsky's sight): Yes, to the bedroom, I'll show you if you please come along. (footsteps up the stairs. Muss lifts his head, slowly)
Muss: ohhhhh (drags self to feet, wanders to kitchen, muttering) sobriety is such an.. undesirable state of being..
(rummages around in cupboard; enter Strozzi.)
Strozzi: Hey Modest.
Muss: hey
Strozzi: What are you up to?
Muss(emerges with a few unlabeled small containers): Special old family recipe...
Strozzi: Ah, not Eggs Benedict?
Muss: Not exactly....(yawns to self; takes out blender, starts pouring various substances into it, crushes up a tablet of vitamin, dumps it in, pauses) feverfew... (goes back to cupboard..)
Strozzi: What...? What are you talking about?
Muss: bananas... pass me a banana. (Strozzi takes one from the bowel in the middle of the table) and an apple.. (she complies)
Muss: feverfew... damn it.. she doesn't label these cannisters..(hand to head)
Strozzi: are - do you have a hangover, Modest?
Muss: I like to think of it more as Post-Festivities Recovery Downtime.
Strozzi: Hahah.. What's going in that blender?
Muss: (gets lemon from refrigerator) A lot of stuff.. peanut butter... bananas... honey...apple (quarters the apple; dumps it in)
Strozzi: Sounds good!
Muss(cuts open lemon, tilts head back, squeezes juice into his mouth): ff... (shakes head, like dog trying to remove excess water) ..... ugh... too early for this.. feverfew... (takes ice from freezer, adds it to blender, pours in some milk, puts on cap, turns on blender, scowling at the noise. Enter Hildegard)
Hildegard: Good morning - what's going on here? Are you cooking, Modest? (he doesn't hear over the blender; Hildegard looks to Strozzi questioningly.)
Strozzi: ... He wanted... a protein shake.
Hildegard(sits): Ah, that's new. Is he thinking of working out or something?
Strozzi: ... one step at a time...
Muss(turns off blender, pours, takes a third of it in one gulp. pauses, turns and sees Hildegard): Ah, ok... good. Do you have any feverfew, Hildegard?
Hildegard: Feverfew...? (sudden suspicion) Are you not... feeling well, Modest?
Muss("damn it"): Nothing like a banana-apple-peanut butter milkshake to pick you up in the morning. It's a family tradition. (lifts glass as if to toast, takes another drink, grimaces.)
Hildegard: But what do you need feverfew for?
Muss: I slept wrong... achey neck. (rubs it for good measure)
Hildegard(still suspicious): Ok... well... I have some there in the puce cannister.
Muss(looks at shelf; scans array of colors from dark red to light blue and every shade in between; looks back to Hildegard): I need help.
Strozzi(snickers): At least he has the good sense not to even try!
Hildegard(sighs, gets up): Fine. (hands him right cannister) Here you go. that shake smells good...
Muss: You can have some. I'll get you a glass.
Hildegard: No, I think you need it more than I do. Honestly, Modest. Next time you can just ask me to make you some of my hangover tea.
Muss(smirks): Occasionally I like to exert a modicum of agency over my situation.
Hildegard(sits again): You're hopeless. Do you have a women's club meeting today or something?
Muss(sits at table with them, and blender and cannister): No that was yesterday. I talked to Mrs. Hickman about Jayden and Hunter being in that scene with Charles.
Strozzi: Oh yeah - what's the story?
Muss: She says she had talked to them about it and they're excited. (He opens the feverfew and takes a few dried leaves, munches on them)
Hildegard: That's not really how you ought to take feverfew...
Muss: It's ok (takes another gulp of the milkshake from the blender; Hildegard shakes her head, Strozzi laughs)
Strozzi: You're so sober..
Muss: between the two of you.. she always says I'm so drunk, and now you with the "sober." Maybe I'll go out today. (whips out cell phone,dials)
Hildegard: What, just like that? See what opportunities you have when you're not falling over drunk?
Muss(to phone): Hey, what are you doing, Arseny? ... Yeah, I am, I know. It's a problem. .....Ok, good. See you then. (hangs up)
Hildegard: So?
Muss(takes blender, finishes shakes - starts coughing, puts hand to mouth, spits; the other two look at him in concern): ..... apple seeds..
Meanwhile, backyard, Beethoven and Brahms have taken a mid-morning coffee break and are sitting under the tree chatting.
Brahms: So when do we get to meet Mystery Woman?
Beet: uh... Maybe... eventually... I don't see why it's such a big deal.
Brahms: Everyone wants to know. it's you.
Beet: nm...more reason not to talk about it..
Brahms: Ludwig, I just want to make sure she's not in my choir.
Beet: No, she's not. (chortles) but that would be funny...get some dirt on you
Brahms: I was thinking more the other way around..
Beet(sniffs): whatever, asshole..
Brahms: That's probably it, isn't it? (imitates girl voice) "Ludwig is just so precious when he reads R. L. Stine to me late at night!"
Beet: Sonofa- (beats him in the arm) Schiller at the least!
Brahms(snickers): better than that Jean Paul stuff Robert's always going on about ..
Beet: Yeah. Robert's.. pretty eccentric. Sometimes he makes me feel normal. I assume he told you about that time he went to Chinatown and got a pigeon to cook?
Brahms: All I know is that it involved (imitates Schumann's voice) "bargaining with the tricky Mr. Bu Shiren in an admixture of Chinese, German and Esperanto" unquote.
(Beethoven just sniffs in amusement, shaking head.)
Meanwhile, Mozart is wandering down the upstairs hall, on the way to Wagner's room to do his weekly search for "incriminating evidence." He is surprised to find Wagner and his seamstress in the room, both standing on chairs at opposite sides of a wall, hanging a light pink silk drapery. Already covering the floor is a dark maroon and blue oriental rug. New heavy burgundy curtain swags hang over delicate white lace sheers. A potted palm tree stands in the corner next to a marble statue of Venus. Mozart drops his jaw--
Mozart: WHAT IS GOING ON?!!
(They turn around, affronted.)
Wagner: Why this pretense of offense? Miss Bertha and I are refurbishing this room.
Mozart(eyes light up): Miss Bertha! Oh! You are the Miss Bertha of Wagner-Correspondence Fame!
Bertha(not amused): Oh, I suppose you read Mr. Wagner's specifications when his letters were reprinted in the paper...?
Mozart: Oh, I have some of them memorized! (makes a show of inspecting the silk drapery) Why this, for example, looks to be a pale and delicate shade of pink, none of that dark, purple pink...
Wagner: ... Yes, well, may I be pleased in the future that you have learned something from me. However, now you must let the artists at work! How are we to realize the bedroom of the Future with you fool naysayers standing in the way of progress??
Mozart: What about the other people who sleep in this room? (gestures to bunk beds)
Wagner: They shall understand when the full potential of this artwork is realized. Now be off. (waves dismissively; Mozart grins, exits.)
Bertha: I don't like the look of that fellow. He doesn't seem to take you very seriously...
Wagner: Quatsch! the weak Man must needs hide his fears behind a mask of silliness.
Mozart goes into the kitchen, pulls out his cell phone and calls Ives, who is at work.
(Split screen sitcom! Ives is at his desk in a nice corner office overlooking a fountain. He is playing solitaire on the computer; at the first sound, he pulls out his phone, which rings to the tune "Amazing Grace." He looks down at the name "Wolfy")
Ives: What's HE calling me for at work? Probably some prank, or asking for my credit card again! Well I won't have any of that! I've got WORK to do! (clicks on phone, just to close it again)
Mozart: agh!! He hung up on me!! O WOE is you, Charles Ives - may you suffer the stupidity that awaits you!! (glances across into TV room) Hm...where's Modest? (investigates; finds Hildegard meditating in the arm chair, Strozzi reading) Hey ladies, what's this? Where's Modest?
Strozzi: He went out today.
Hildegard: He's probably drinking somewhere with another drunk Russian friend of his.
Mozart: Ah, well, nevermind then. (he goes back to the hall, into den, sits on sofa, ponders) All this disaster, and no one to help out. Wait a minute.. who's his other roommate? (glances out window) heh, workless Bohemians talking. This could be good...(climbs out window, falls onto grass) OOMPH!
(Brahms and Beethoven are sitting near the tree; they look up at the commotion)
Beethoven: That's why God made DOORS!
Mozart(gets up, dusting himself off): Yea, whatever. (joins them) So what's all this? Are you discussing lawn gnome strategy or something?
Brahms: Something like that
Mozart: So, Johannes. (grins)
Brahms: uh oh - this can't be good.
Mozart: Richard.....
Brahms: even worse
Mozart: Dear Richard... is in your room.
Brahms: ..... he shares that room...
Mozart: Oh, but - he thinks he owns it.
Beet(snorts): That's nothing new!
Mozart: Which is why he's redecorating it. In the style of a degenerate late 19th-century penthouse! WOOO
Brahms(alarmed): Uh....
Mozart: ahahah - it's enough to give you nightmares! (Beethoven is laughing) You should see the bright reds, the lace curtains, the oriental rugs, the palm trees--
Brahms: --PALM trees?!
Mozart: Yeah, and the naked statue of Venus, and the oil paintings - AND he was hanging a giant pink silk -- wall hanging when I went in there last. Who knows what grand changes he's made since I last looked!
Brahms(hops to feet): WHAT!!
Beet: hahahahha(rolling in grass)
Mozart: Shall I bring the camera for when you confront him?
Brahms: grrr (storms into house)
Mozart: Oh man, too great! Let's go, Ludwig! (helps Beet to his feet, exeunt after Brahms)
Brahms takes the stairs, two steps at a time, and storms over to his room, in which Wagner and his milliner Miss Bertha are facing away from him, now arranging a large oil painting on the wall over two of the bunk beds.
Brahms: AGH (covers eyes, lurches back as if ill)
Wagner(glares over his shoulder): BRAHMS.
Brahms: What IS this?!
(Wagner turns around on the chair, hands on hips, leaving the entire picture in the grasp of Bertha, who grumbles at the weight.)
Wagner: I am bringing this room into the realm of the Artistic Habitat of the Future! You and your pauper's grasp of color will simply have to join us at a higher level or suffer.
Brahms: Are you INSANE? This is ridiculous! (stays in doorway, as if too much exposure will hurt him)
Bertha(still hanging picture): Who is this Philistine?
Wagner: This is one of my housemates, a Philistine indeed! He is the darling of that fool critic Eduard Hanslick.
Bertha: Who published our correspondence in the paper...!!
Brahms(suddenly quiet): Is this the famous "Miss Bertha"?
Bertha(gets picture on hooks, turns around scowling) YES.
Wagner: Dear Miss Bertha, you will, I am afraid, be none too pleased to know this is the very scoundrel who handed over our correspondence TO said fool critic.
Bertha(has been appraising Brahms, can't find much to complain about; frowns): Well! I don't see why they're such a source of amusement for the world. Any artist working at a higher level with fabrics has to be able to distinguish colors and patterns...
Brahms: Oh believe me, I don't find this very amusing... Did you people leave no inch of wall uncovered?! It's a circus in here!
Wagner: I'll have you know that my skin condition requires that I be surrounded in the most comfortable and gentle of fabrics.
Brahms: .....Do you get migraines too?
Wagner(annoyed): No, I would not like you to bring us any tea, Mr. Brahms!
(Mozart can be heard cackling down the hall "HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH")
Brahms(hand to head): oh jesus..(takes step into room) I'd be scared to sleep in here. It's like some Italian horror flick from the 1970s.
Wagner: Until you and your patron can devise and fund a better decorating scheme, you'll have to deal with the present one. Brahms: I don't have a patron.
Wagner: Precisely. Now be off. (sighs grandly) Verily, the World should thank me for having the fortitude to see my artistic dreams through to their realization!
Bertha(to B): You should take a little something from Richard's book. You'd do well to have more color on you.
Brahms(looks at his clothes: old jeans, a grey shirt): Uh... No pink silks, thank you. I'm lucky I don't have such a "skin condition."
Wagner: Erysipelas is no laughing matter!
Brahms: I don't care how many syllables in whatever language, it still sounds like 'women's underwear fetish' to me! (exit)
Wagner: You shall not have the last word, foul mortal!
Mozart and Beethoven stop Brahms in the hall.
Mozart: What, you're giving up just like that?
Brahms: Who said anything about giving up? (he continues on, down stairs)
Beet: Uh, does this mean you're not coming back to write?
Brahms: Go on without me!!
MEANWHILE--- downtown.
Liszt is running down the sidewalk, shoes pounding, hair streaming out behind him - people are turning, wondering what he's doing. He has a purse hanging off his left arm, banging into his side with each footfall. Finally he reaches a tall woman waiting on the sidewalk, hands it to her breathlessly.
Liszt: Marie! don't leave this with me!
Marie: Ah, thanks! I'm not sure how I'd explain that to my husband.
Liszt: That's why I ran...
Marie: He's coming to pick me up soon -
Liszt: 'Til next time - (they kiss - tear themselves apart; Liszt darts off down an alleyway. Soon he finds himself on the street where both the French and German bakeries live.)
Liszt: ahh.. I could go for a latte.
Ives: Hey Franz! How about this weather!?
Liszt(sees Ives coming down sidewalk with briefcase): It's a beautiful day. Cooling down finally. What are you doing out and about in the middle of the day?
Ives: It's my lunch break and I'm trying to figure out where to eat other than Subway.
Liszt: Oh perfect - come to the French place with me - (takes him by arm, pulls him into shop)
Ives: But --
Liszt: It's good food.
(Ives is about to object when his eyes adjust to the darker ambiance of the French bakery L'Apocalypse. He is surprised to see no patrons except a group around the counter.The group of young men at the bar looks disaffected, until they see Liszt.)
Schaeffer: It's Franz!
Henry: Hey Franz, too busy with your lady love to visit us anymore?
Ives: You know these hooligans?
Liszt(heads to counter): These are my friends -- this is one of my housemates, Charles. He's a composer too.
Schaeffer(leans over counter, hand extended): Hello, I'm Pierre
Henry (sitting): Nice to meet you, I'm Pierre
Ives: Uh-
Boulez: I'm Pierre.
(Three of the remaining four guys turn to the one sitting at the end, he smiles obligingly.)
Bernac: I am also Pierre.
Ives: What in the hell - is this some sort of joke?!
Liszt: Pierre is a common name in France.
(Next to the most recent Pierre is a big man, not fat, with a long nose. He is opening a new package of cigarettes and looks amused at Ives's distress. He finally speaks.)
Poulenc: Actually, I am the only non-Pierre in the house. My name is Francis. But to keep straight the Pierres, you should know (gestures at the one to his left who spoke last) this is Pierre I, --
Schaeffer: No, I should be the first! I am the owner of this cafe!
Poulenc(in stride): Yes, you are a great theorist and no musician. As I said, (gesturing again to his friend) this is Pierre I. He is a great interpreter of art song. He understands my music better than I do. (Bernac looks at the counter modestly; Poulenc points to Boulez) This is Pierre II, a composer like myself, but avant garde in the worst of ways. (Boulez rolls his eyes, but Poulenc grins back at him; he then points to Henry) This is Pierre III, another composer. He enjoys playing with the doors.
Henry: Ah, remind me never to hire you for my publicity manager!
Poulenc: He also writes music in his spare time. And this, (turns to Schaeffer) is the owner of this fine establishment.
Schaeffer: HEY!
Liszt(amused): I love when Francis is visiting. And who am I, pray tell?
Poulenc(lights up cigarette): Someone who needs no introduction!
Schaeffer(annoyed): Do our new guests want anything to eat or drink?
Liszt: I'll have a latte, you know how I like them.
Ives(wary of the crowd): I'll have a coffee. Black.
(Liszt sits at the counter, between Boulez and Poulenc. Ives takes the empty seat between Liszt and Poulenc.)
Poulenc: So, Franz, where is this charming lady friend of yours?
Liszt: I just saw her off. We are so busy, it's unfortunate. And Richard Wagner yesterday had the nerve to tell me it's my fault he never sees me anymore!
Schaeffer: That's because he goes to the wrong bakery!!
Henry(at same time): That's HIS fault!
Boulez: No, don't bring him here. We don't need his kind around here.
Ives: No one needs his kind around anywhere! (the others laugh, Schaeffer brings their drinks; Ives seems to relax a little more) I've never seen a man more excited about pink silk in my life!
Poulenc(to Ives): And you are not a connoisseur of fine silks and satins, sir?
Ives: Hell no! The damned stuff of women's underwear!
Poulenc: Ah, but women's underwear usually IS exciting (leans closer to Ives conspiratorially)-- especially on a guy!
Ives: Wha--HEY (nearly falls out of chair trying to back up; Pierres II, III and IV laugh raucously; Liszt and Bernac exchange an amused glance.)
Liszt: Don't mind him, he's a good Catholic.
Poulenc: I don't know about "good..." Certainly not as good as you, Franz.
Ives: Tell me you're joking!
Poulenc: How should I know if I'm joking? Pierre, what do you think? Am I joking?
Bernac: ..... you are as far as Charles is concerned..
Schaeffer: No no, this is the man they call half bad boy, half monk!
Ives(bewildered): Franz... you have some strange friends..
Liszt: ah, perhaps we should have gone to the German bakery..
Schaeffer: WHAT!
Boulez: Ahahah!
Henry: Blasphemer!
Poulenc: Ah, I envy you, Franz Liszt. Such a cosmopolitan. You can go back and forth between the rival French and German food establishments. A man of many tastes. A regular switch hitter, you...
Liszt(smiles): Only when it comes to bakeries.
Poulenc: No, even in your composing -- I'd pursue the analogy further, but I wish to interrogate Mr. Charles here about his composition before he chugs the rest of his coffee...
(Ives has nervously been trying to finish his drink all the while.)
Boulez: Yes, what do you compose?
Ives: Well... I compose all sorts of music in my spare time: chamber music, symphonies, songs-
Bernac: Songs?
Ives: Oh yes! I was actually having a slow day at the office today and I was sketching one out. (produces a sheet of music paper from his briefcase, passes it to Bernac who studies it intently. He has no outer reaction, save for the subtle movement of one eyebrow. Poulenc reacts immediately)
Poulenc: AHhahahahhaa! Ohhh, I'm sorry - hahahah!
Ives(confused): What?
Poulenc(sighs): hahahhhhh....Oh well.
Bernac(hands him back the paper, polite interest): .... Where do you work?
(Boulez, on the other side of Liszt, picks up a napkin to hide behind. Schaeffer turns to the espresso machine.)
Ives: I'm an insurance salesman! Here, (reaches into pocket for business card, shoves it at Bernac) If you're a good singer, you ought to have good life insurance, and Mutual is the best!
Bernac: ah, yes... thank you. It is good to know that strangers would care so much about my well being.
Ives(in salesman mode): Right, what company are you with now? (Liszt looks alarmed)
Bernac:.. I'd have to speak with my manager.. He takes care of these things, you see..
Ives: No, Man, you should take your life in your own hands! What are we humans but selfish creatures! Who better to look out for you and yours than you? You should make sure you have only the best insurance! Look, I'm willing to offer you - an artist! - a good deal. I have the power to make such offers, you know - not everyone in the company does. Now you will probably want some sort of permanent insurance--
Poulenc(leans in between them,puts an arm around their shoulders): Mr. Charles, do you like the ballet?
Ives: -what? Why I -
Poulenc(interrupting him): --because I was thinking of throwing a little party sometime in hopes that I might inspire myself to get going on this little Ballets Russes piece I must write. It would be nice to see you there. You know, just one of those contemporary drawing room parties suffused with the smoky atmosphere of wantonness, which you sense if you are corrupted, but of which an innocent-minded man such as yourself would not be conscious of... (he winks at Ives)
Ives: uh... (tries to back up again)
Poulenc: You DO like the ballet, don't you?
Ives(jumps out of chair): NO! That sissy pansy nonsense!
Poulenc: Oh no, but it is a charming diversion!
Ives: Franz, I must get to WORK. I'll see you later! (runs out. They wait til he is off down the street then laugh raucously, except for Bernac and Liszt, who just smile in amusement).
Poulenc: ohhho... What a charming friend you have, Franz. Perhaps he will turn out to be a good composer after all?
Bernac: No.
Liszt: I don't think he's going to turn out period.
Poulenc: Ah, well, it's for the best..
Meanwhile Mozart continues his search for people to protest Wagner's radical room redecoration. Mussorsgky is just now walking in the front door with his friend the Count Arseny Golenischev-Kutusov. Mozart pounces from the piano room.
Mozart: It's about time!
Muss: hey hey
Mozart: You have to save your room!
Muss(looks into TV room): seemsok
Mozart: No your BEDROOM! Richard is redecorating!
Muss: .... uh.... better see (heads up stairs, Arseny shrugs and follows)
Golenischev-Kutusov: This can't be good..
Mozart: heh, I should go to watch this too - (is about to follow, but the doorbell rings. He hops over and answers it.)
Ludwig: Hello, Mr. Mozart. (Today Ludwig "King of Bavaria" is wearing a smart outfit: a nicely tailored vest in a bold brown stripe over a crisp white rolled-collared dress shirt, the sleeves breezily bunched at the elbows. He has only a few rings this time, and dove-grey trousers with hints of chocolate.)
Mozart: Well! Hello, Mr. Ludwig II! (bows extravagantly) Fancy meeting you here on a nice summer afternoon like this. Can I interest you in a pot of tea - or some of Modest's vodka?
Ludwig: That's all right, thanks. I came over at Richard's behest. He has a surprise he wishes to show me...
Mozart: AH! heh.... (looks upstairs, as if expecting someone to be thrown down the staircase at any moment) Well, I suppose I shouldn't stand in your way?? (steps aside, makes generous sweeping gesture at stairwell; he is about to follow when Strozzi pops her head out of the den.)
Strozzi: Hey, did I hear "Ludwig II"?
Mozart: Yes. He is on to Richard's decorating schemes, but I think he'll probably approve...
Strozzi(heads for stairs): Let's investigate! I never complain about eye candy.
Mozart: Ohh, but I think you'll be blind the second you walk into the room...
Upstairs, Mussorgsky and Wagner are already into their argument.
Muss: but but this placeisa disaster!
(Arseny meanwhile has collapsed on one of the bottom bunks laughing.)
Wagner: Fool, I should expect that you have no sense of decorating!
Muss: it looks likea three ring circus act - likesome degenerate fin-de-siecle costume store - like -- it looks like your MUSIC sounds!
Golenischev-Kutusov: hahahhahah(clutching sides) ah hahah -
Muss: get rid of this - palm tree?!
Golenischev-Kutusov: But Venus can stay, can't she? She's cute! hahah -
Wagner: I would not have you speak of the divine goddess of love in such a perfunctory manner, Mr...??
(enter Ludwig)
Muss: hey hey its the king of Bavaria, maybe he can change your mind...
Ludwig(amazed at the scene): Oh, it's beautiful, Richard!
Muss: ahhhh nevermind...(sits in defeat next to Arseny)
Wagner: Ach, Ludwig! These Philistines have no appreciation of my Art.
Bertha: So it would seem!
Ludwig: Is this the great Miss Bertha?
Bertha: Is this the great Ludwig? He makes possible all our artistic ventures? (the two run to each other and embrace enthusiastically, kiss each other on the cheek; Wagner looks on with a paternal smile)
Wagner: Ah, would that all my supporters could be gathered in a like place, free of prejudice and pestilence!
Mozart(in doorway): What are you talking about? This is all of them in one room!
Muss: imnot involved inthis nonsense
Golenischev-Kutusov(to Muss, mischievously): Perhaps he's redecorating for a new housemate?
Muss: ah! (looks up) Ludwig! you should just movein it would make life alot easierfor everyone
Strozzi(with Mozart in doorway): I concur!
Mozart: Partay!
Wagner(loses smile): Ah --
Ludwig: Oh, that I could then be nearer to my artistic hero! Heavenly joy amidst Earthly pain!
Muss: youcan havemy bed! Ialwayssleep downstairs (points at top bunk) itsright under Richards
(Strozzi and Mozart are trying not to laugh out loud; Wagner looks increasingly distressed at the suggestion)
Bertha: I would be more than happy to supply whatever furnishings you needed..
Wagner: But! How... how could you suggest... that my divine patron move into a house with such ones as yourselves in it! It is entirely beneath his dignity to be so crammed into small living quarters such as this--
Golenischev-Kutusov: True, it must get hot in here (Muss elbows him in the side)
Mozart(laughing at G-K, adds sottovoce to Strozzi): I like him; we can keep him.
Strozzi: I concur on that point as well.
Mozart: No wait, he's straight, isn't he? Damn it, Barbara..
Ludwig: That doesn't really bother me, Richard. For you I would give up all sorts of luxuries, for what is the World without Genius?
Wagner: .... Indeed... (glares at Muss,turns to Ludwig) However, it would too greatly pain me to see you reduced to such poor circumstances. Part of my spiritual well-being comes from knowing that the best supporter sympathetic to my art should be living in comfortable surroundings.
Strozzi(steps forward): It's really not so bad, Ludwig.
Golenischev-Kutusov: I spent the night here once - very comfortable! The company is excellent too.
Mozart: it's true. We may have our artistic differences, but we certainly band together in times of need - a real Family! You should be part of that family
Muss: Richards really being too modest - the roomsnot socrowded as youmight think.
Wagner: -this is by no means an acceptable accommodation for one of your standing, Ludwig. You should hardly consider it!
Ludwig: Ah, but it is cozy. You have no idea how cold and lonely those eternally big rooms can be!
Mozart(claps): Great! It's settled then!
Strozzi: I'll even help you move in!
Wagner(stomps foot): I OBJECT!! (everyone is startled)
Ludwig(concerned): Such an outburst, Richard?
Wagner(goes through variety of expressions as he speaks): My dear Ludwig, I -- I - You - (takes a breath, now that he has the floor, calms himself) Your dignity demands only the finest of circumstances - AND - I know that you may consider my proximity to outweigh any of the other unpleasantnesses; however! The prolonged exposure to such Mediocrity, Sloth, Iniquity -- why, you even met some of the (pauses for word) coarser members of our establishment. I would recall to you the memory of Mr. Charles Ives who so ruthlessly insulted your honor when you first crossed our threshold bringing Papi to us. (Ludwig frowns in recollection)
Muss: --but--
Wagner: SILENCE!!! Furthermore, we are surrounded by Philistines of the highest degree- Why, no less than three people have approached me in the past hour with the intention of undermining my artistic endeavours -- (Ludwig is about to speak, Wanger cuts him off) Please, you must let me make my argument --
(Enter Brahms, with two men and a woman, all of whom have cameras at the ready.)
Brahms(proudly): Here it is!! The Artistic Habitat of the Future!!! (throws his arms wide open in the doorway, the three people immediately start taking flash photography, effectively blinding Wagner.)
Wagner(hands to eyes): What -- What is ths CHICANERY!!?
Bertha: It's the press again!
(Mozart applauds, Muss and Golenischev-Kutusov join him)
Wagner: WHAT!!??
TBC...