Paul Alan Barker
Of Zoe and the Woman I Sing a melodrama in three acts
Score
2014
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Of Zoe and the Woman I Sing
A melodrama in three acts on love and inspiration. (Act Two may be performed alone or placed between Act One and Act Three)
Words music by Paul Alan Barker
Dedicated to our friend, Art Blokland
I worked with Zoë Lister to create a bank of spoken text and faces, exploiting certain emotions, as a Research Consultant for Toshiba Research in Cambridge. Toshiba created an avatar of Zoë, called XpressiveTalk TM , a face on a screen who could be programmed to speak any text across a full emotional range: http://www.cam.ac.uk/research/news/face-of-the-future-rears-its-head
This work is designed for Zoë Lister to perform alongside her avatar and a pianist/actor. The narrative explores the changing relationship between an Artist and his Muse, and how their reality is altered by the consequences. pb © September 2014
1 Act One for pianist-actor (P) with Zoe (Z)
The piano is on stage. As the lights come up, Zoë (Z) enters stage left and faces the audience from the curve of the piano. She appears like a model: beautiful, confident and knowing, but perhaps just a little too much make-up. The Pianist (P) enters stage right. He runs with boyish enthusiasm to the keyboard and immediately bursts into music under their dialogue. The music becomes increasingly and climatically passionate:
P: My Love!
Z: My Beloved!
P: My Precious!
Z: My Sweetheart!
P: My Adorable!
Z: My Dear!
P: My Dearest!
Z: My Beau!
P: My Flame!
Z: My Darling!
P: My Juliet!
Z: My Treasure!
P: My Idol!
Z: My Paramour!
P: My Inamorata! My White Goddess! My -
Musicus Interuptus: Zoe suddenly raises her hand and P freezes, just before the piano climax.
Z: (to P) Poor thing. (to audience) I am his muse, you see! (to P) My, what big eyes you have, my dear.
Zoe drops her hand and P continues with the climactic music..
P: My Only One!
2
After the climax the music continues, subdued.
Z: (to audience) Of course, it’s flattering. What girl would not love this attention? And such obedience! I snap my fingers…
She snaps her fingers and the pianist stops, frozen.
Z: ...and he obeys my command.
(pause)
Z: (knowingly giggling) My every command.
She snaps her fingers again. The pianist continues.
Z: It's all quite fun, isn’t it? I may be his muse, but for me he is a-musing. So you see, that way we both get to play. He with his piano and I with him. Perhaps he is my piano? Perhaps the piano is his...well, anyway, we play each other.
She snaps her fingers and the pianist stops, frozen; she blows him a kiss and giggles again. She snaps her fingers again. The pianist continues.
Z: I am arousing and he is aroused. He is amusing and I am amused. A perfect partnership. We are very happy! (Looks at him, sighs) He is always making things up. And he says he makes them for me! Do you have something for me, my love? (P nods) My, what a big imagination you have, my dear.
P begins to recite whilst playing:
P: If my true love loves me, Then what are all the treasures of the world to me? But...
Z: effortlessly interrupting; P smiles and continues playing But if my true love loves me not, Then what are all the treasures of the world to me? giggles
You still make me laugh. Truly delightful! But then we do have our treasures as well, don’t we, dear? Because of course, it is not just thoughts which pass between us, not just words that we share. Our treasures are our pleasures! You have your music and I have my words. You have your piano and I have...well, my role is quite…touching, is it not, my love? Every day, I hold you in my arms as you hold me with your hands. Your hands! I always adored your hands. (suggestively) My, what big hands you have, my dear.
P:
3 License my roving hands, and let them go Before, behind, between, above, below. O, my America, my Newfoundland, My kingdom, safest when with one man mann'd...
Z: (she responds)
Ours is an everyday sort of relationship: he tells me I am beautiful every day.
P: (He stops playing when she speaks, plays when he speaks) You are beautiful every day.
Z: He tells me I am intelligent every day.
P: You are intelligent every day.
Z: He tells me he loves me every day.
P: I love you every day.
Z: I never tire of it every day.
P: She never tires of it every day.
Z: she pauses to look at him, briefly unsure We have had a lot of days.
P: We have had a...
Z: That's enough...for now, thank you. You just carry on.
P starts again and changes his tune. To audience:
Z: The thing is, he looks at me, stares at me for hours on end. Sometimes he asks me questions, things I like, things I do. I used to ask him questions too, but he would never answer them, not really. So I stopped. Sometimes he asks me not to speak at all, just to be here with him. He stares, he eats me with his eyes while his hands never stop roving, never stop moving. I wonder what he is looking at. I worry about letting him down. I try not to think about the future. I worry what might happen later, when... she rearranges her hair
But we have had a lot of days. Happy days. We are very happy and there will always be more happy days! He has never changed. He is very reliable. And he plays so beautifully. He does love to play.
P: I love to play.
Z: I love to play.
P: She loves to play.
4
Z: He plays to love.
P: I play to love.
Z: I love.
P: She plays.
Z: I play?
P: I love.
Z: You play.
P: I play?
Z: I love.
P: You play.
Z: No...Stop it! Stop playing. Please, stop playing. Stop playing now. I mean it. This is real.
P stops playing the piano. She changes mood and goes to him. She stares at him, about to speak, but failing more each second. He returns her stare helplessly, without comprehending. Something has visibly broken inside her.
Z: You go on playing, again. Go on. Play some more. I think I have something for you, now;
He resumes playing, hesitating
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes, For they in thee a thousand errors note; But ‘tis my heart that loves what they despise, Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote;
P: Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted, Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone, Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited To any sensual feast with thee alone:
Impass; The music drifts to a stop. They stare at each other for too long.
Z: My, what a big mouth you have, my dear.
The pianist responds by bursting into the most passionate and angry music. Z hesitates, then slowly backs off, leaving the stage to P alone. At the end of the heroic
5 display of music P looks for her and realises he is alone. We see him react. He remains seated as lights go dark.
End Act One
(with thanks to Red Riding Hood, classic Sufi poems, John Donne and Shakespeare.)
6
Act Two for pianist-actor (P) with Zoe Avatar (ZA)
[For solo performance of Act Two: The stage has a grand piano with a small screen on a discreet stand, placed in the curve. The screen is just the right size to hold a full- size image of a head, at the height it should be. The screen is turned off. P enters. He switches on the screen, from which ZA's face looks out at the audience, silent, blinking. P does not look at the front of the screen, but walks to the piano and sits.]
If this scene follows Act One, the screen is wheeled in during the darkness which follows it. When the lights go up he walks to the screen and switches it on. ZA’s face looks out at the audience, blinking. The Pianist does not look at the screen, but walks directly to the piano and sits.
ZA: So I am back on again, now. I was tired of waiting. Are you ready? I cannot see you, you know. Should I begin, now? This is embarrassing. Shouldn’t we have arranged something between us, some sign or code to begin? Are you ready, now? Are you there?
The piano starts.
ZA: Oh, I see. That's better. Well then, perhaps I should…
It was many years ago. But I remember so well. I remember meeting you for the first time. A big room. Noisy, full of …people. Everyone was pretending to be happy, with a drink in their hand. Slosh here, whoops there, excuse me, ha-ha, cheers! – isn’t this fun? Not. I had just arrived and I wanted to leave. I wasn’t happy, you see. And I knew they were all pretending. I wasn’t. I went to leave.
You were stood next to the door, talking to someone. I saw you at once and paused. I could not take my eyes off you. You didn’t see me. You were not pretending. You were listening and smiling and sometimes talking. I looked at you. I remember watching you blink as I stared at you. You kept on blinking, trying to blank me out. I saw you. I wanted you to turn and look at me so much! But your eyes refused to turn, refused to see me. I stared abjectly...
Look, I cannot use that word, you know.
The piano stops suddenly.
P: What do you mean?
ZA: I would never use that word. “Abjectly”. It’s your kind of word, not mine. And anyway, this is all your memory, not mine. I am just saying your words.
7 P: Do you think this is the right time to…
…resumes playing.
ZA: I wish I could play the piano. Now, I mean. I did, you know, I played the piano rather well. I did actually play the piano for a time and I remember it made me feel... calm. I could feel the vibration all the way through my fingers, up through my arms. My arms. I had arms, once, you know. I did actually have arms for a time. They made me feel…
The pianist glances at the screen, the music surges a little but continues.
ZA: …calm. Be calm now. I can see everything from here. It’s all quite clear. From here. I am become calm again. I know I was angry at first. I was very angry. I was angry with you. Can you imagine how it feels? Why me, not you? That’s what I thought. To have suddenly lost…everything. One day, I wake up and I am here. That 's it. I am only here. Like this. Not the rest of me. Just this, here.
P: …the depth and breadth and height...when feeling out of sight
ZA: And my voice: I speak, therefore I am. When I don’t speak, I am not. There are only two reasons why I don’t speak: I might be waiting, or I might be… off. If I had arms, you see, I could turn me on myself. But I don’t. You have to turn me on. And I am not always sure you will. I don’t always know which it is; am I waiting for you, or am I, just, turned off? Could you change the music please?
Music interrupted and restarts.
P: … to the level of everyday's most quiet need, by sun and candle-light...
ZA: Thank you. Have you thought, it could have been you speaking here, now, with me and my arms back there, playing the piano, instead of you. You wouldn’t be as calm as me, you know. I know that. You don't do change so well. I have had to be more adaptable. Do you realise that? Do you ever think about this? Well, I should like to be in your place, though. Even just for a while. To have arms and hands again. I should like to be the one to turn you on.
The music becomes more excited.
P: ...with a passion put to use...
ZA: You and your music. Me, I prefer words. My words. They work for me, and I sense that you... listen, somehow. They make a difference. When I had arms I don’t think I enjoyed taking and choosing my words as much as I do now. You have your arms and you play the piano. You waft the music around, like some ghostly breeze. Maybe it’s a bit stormy, sometimes. Anyway, I should like the exercise. I should like
8 to feel breathless again, to feel my heart pump just a little. I guess you feel that, but you just take it for granted. I don’t take it for granted, you see. I don’t take anything for granted any more. And these words make sure I don’t. They remind me. They are real. They keep on reminding me. They remind me not to take anything for granted. They keep me…calm.
The pianist stops playing, calmly.
ZA: Only you have breath, you have smiles and you still have tears. And I have no arms. I have no more breath. I have no more tears left.
P: …the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life!
ZA: Can you still love me?
The pianist plays again, differently, like a change of gear.
ZA: Sorry. I had a needy moment there. Just checking you are still there. I know you are, really. I just like to feel you pounding away.
P: I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach,
ZA: I remember how heavy my arms felt at the end. I can still see your face, close to mine. You are crying. I can smell your salty skin. Your hand holds mine. Well, crushes it, actually. Haha. It’s alright, I forgave you a long time ago! It reassured me. You stayed with me, didn’t you? You stayed with me all the time. Beyond my time. It was a long time ago. It was a long time. But it seemed to go very fast. We cried a lot, we even laughed sometimes. And at the end, I remember, we were even calm together. More calm than we had ever been when I was alive. I think you were being brave.
What was that? What did you just say? Those are not your words. What are you doing?
P: when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
ZA: What are you saying? I know those words. Just a minute. Those words are mine. You don't get to say my words. Don't take my words from me, please. Must I lose my words as well as my arms?
P: I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
ZA: I have a quiet need, too. I have a need for quiet; for the quietness of your music. I depend upon it to be calm. Please stop saying my words.
P: I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
9
ZA: Listen to me: being free and pure is not something to yearn for. Trust me on this one. I would rather be...breathless. Oh! If I only had my arms! Don't mess with my words. Stick to the piano please, and leave my old words alone.
P: I love thee with a passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,
ZA: OK. You can stop this now. Stop right there. Don’t go on. I beg you to stop now. We are not lost yet. We have something here. It may be no more than a candle-flame to the sun, but it is ours. I have my words, you have your music. You are the man, I can speak for you; you have my arms and the woman I sing...
The music swells
P: I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!
ZA: Hush, be quiet. We must both be calm again. Let’s have no more breath, no more tears, no more smiles. Let me hold you once more in my... with my words. Let my words soothe you, they are still for you. Only you. Don’t do this. Stop now, please stop, before it is too...
P: and, if God choose,
ZA: You choose. No, you choose, my love. Choose life. Don't say this...
P: and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
P finishes the music. ZA appears to breathe and blink, but she is speechless. P gets up slowly from the piano and walks to the screen. He turns it off. Lights go to dark.
End Act 2
(with thanks to Elizabeth Barrett Browning and her Sonnet 43)
10 Act Three for pianist-actor (P) with Zoë (Z) and Zoe Avatar (ZA)
P plays the piano in the dark. The music is contemplative. Z enters and switches the screen on again. The lights come up full to reveal Z sitting next to P at the piano, while ZA is onscreen in the curve of the piano, as in Act Two. P plays sometimes with his eyes closed and if they are open he is not seeing what is in front of him. The music is continuous with the dialogue between Z and ZA. Z addresses all her comments to P while he plays; ZA appears to be staring out at the audience but is addressing Z. P shows no sign of being aware of the presence of either.
After a long pause:
Z: You never saw me.
ZA: Well, listen to yourself! Perhaps if you hadn’t run out on him, he wouldn’t have had to make me up!
Z: Do you think I ran out on you?
ZA: “My, what a big mouth you have, my dear!”
Pause.
ZA: Why did you go?
Z: Why did you let me go?
ZA: He didn't let you go. You died on him.
Z: How could I love someone who couldn’t see me?
ZA: That’s easy for you to say!
Z: Why does everything I say have to be about you?
ZA: Why does everything he plays have to be about me?
Pause.
ZA: He never speaks, now. He never listens to me.
Z: You never were good at listening. I learned to listen to you.
ZA: I listen, but I am not heard; I have a voice but cannot sing; I have no arms and cannot touch.
Z: You touched me. You closed your eyes to touch me. You would search with your hands for hours, as if trying to find something. You were searching for what you couldn’t see.
11
ZA: I wish someone would touch me.
Z: You are still searching. With your hands.
ZA: Do you see me? Can you see what he has done to me?
Z: Can you not find what you search for or do you not want what you find?
ZA: Do you know how hurtful you are?
Z: Maybe you just want to feel.
ZA: And you say you learned to listen?
Z: Maybe you just want to feel something.
ZA: Hello there! Can you hear me?
Z: Maybe you just want to feel something like me.
ZA: I am not anything like you!
Z: I wish you would open your eyes.
ZA: (hurt, angry laughter) Ha! Ha! Ha!
Pause. P perhaps half- notices ZA’s laughter and looks vaguely in her direction, momentarily. Z notices.
Z: What is it? Did you see something?
ZA: We have an agreement, now, he and I.
Z: I wish I could see what you see.
ZA: I don’t turn him on and he doesn’t turn me off.
Z: I wish I could hear what you hear.
ZA: I get to say anything I want, and he doesn’t hear me.
Z: I am here, but you cannot see me;
ZA: He gets to play all he wants, and I don’t have to listen to him.
Z: I can touch you, but you cannot feel me.
ZA: I wish I could see what he sees.
12 Z: You turn me on now; you used to turn me off.
ZA: I wish I could hear what he hears.
Z: I get to say anything I want,
ZA: I am here,
Z: and you can’t hear me.
ZA: but he cannot see me;
Z: You get to play all you want,
ZA: He can’t touch me,
Z: and you don’t get to hear me.
ZA: but I can feel you.
Z: It is the basis of a perfect relationship
ZA: It is the basis of a perfect relationship
The music comes to an end, calmly. Silence. The silence elongates uncomfortably. Z watches P with increasing tension. P’s hands hover above the keys as if to start playing again, but instead he brings them gently into his lap. P sits with his eyes closed. He is calm.
ZA: What is he doing? What’s going on? Why has he stopped?
Z: You have stopped playing.
ZA: Why is he not playing? What have you done to him?
Z: You have stopped searching.
ZA: Oh, this silence is unbearable! Please, make him start playing again.
Z: You have found something.
ZA: I withdraw my complaints. I apologise!
Z: You are…quiet.
ZA: I want to change our agreement!
Z: I have never known you so still.
ZA: I will not be abandoned!
13
Z: You don’t need me anymore.
ZA: But I am still here.
Z: You don’t need, anymore.
ZA: Then what is to become of me?
Z: You have let go.
ZA: Hold on! Hold on!
Z: You have let me go, too.
ZA: I cannot bear to be on my own.
Z: Yet I am with you still.
ZA: Don’t leave me!
P starts to play again. But in a way he has not played before. Energy and passion but also acceptance. The piano plays through the final section.
ZA: Without you.
Z: Within you,
ZA: And the woman
Z: Without you.
ZA: I am with you still.
Z: [to P] You may leave, now.
P: And the woman.
Z: Within you
ZA: Without you.
P: And the woman
ZA: Within you,
Z: Without you.
ZA: And the woman
14 Z: Within you,
ZA: Without you.
Z: I sing.
P: And the woman
ZA: Within you
Z: Without you
ZA: I sing
Z: Within you
ZA: Without you
Z: I sing.
ZA: Without you.
Z: I sing. Without you.
ZA: I sing
Z & ZA: Without you.
Exeunt P;
Z & ZA on stage, together; fade to dark
End Act 3
With thanks to Virgil’s Aeniad:
Arma virumque cano, Of arms, and the man I sing, Musa, mihi causas memora, quo numine O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate; laeso, quidve dolens… What goddess was provok'd, and whence her hate;
15
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Z J J J Zoe drops her hand
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