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SnowGlassRoses
Planetoid
- Joined
- Aug 7, 2009
After viewing her performance in L'incoronazione di Poppea, as the cunning and beautiful second wife of the Roman Emperor Nero, King Louis XIV of France knew that the fragile morale of his country could be elevated by the voice of the Italian Nightingale, Lucrezia Salieri. When she first stepped upon the stage, her beauty caused the breath of all in the audience to stillâ¦When her lips parted, to allow the first sweet and mournful note to pass into the air like a heavenly song, all hearts were stillâ¦and not one eye was dry in the entire theatre, when the porcelain skinned beauty so convincingly died on center stageâ¦The King insisted that she grace the stages of France, and share with his people the serene bliss which she invoked upon the Italian audiences whom, he assured her, were unappreciative of her true value as a singer.
Naïve and flattered by royal recognition, Lucrezia had bid farewell to familiarity, and left for Paris to accept the leading role in Jean Baptiste-Lullyâs, Cadmus et Hermioneâ¦For six months she practiced secretly with only those involved with the show knowing of her presence, in order to secure a more satisfying unveiling, given a private suite in a hotel across from the theatre itself. Though honored by the opportunity and recommendation by the reigning monarch, Lucrezia had found herself insatiably lonely and...flustered, during her time in France thus far..
An opera premiere endorsed by the King was one that was a rare occurrence, and sparked certainly more than intrigue across the country considering His Majesty had hand picked the leading role. Cadmus et Hermione was an invitation only event for itâs first night, guaranteeing that the experience would stir even the coldest manâs heart, and was promised to the commoners to be performed for the public very soon. For the moment however, the Italian delicacy whom performed on the stage of His Majestyâs White Theatre with such haunting grace, was a powerfully influential piece in the plan for the King to keep the nobility from uprising during such a...delicate, time.
The audience seemed to be entranced from the moment the curtains first opened. With the creative genius of the Kingâs most prized composer, and the voice of a young lady so strikingly different than Franceâs typical leading sopranoâs, many attempted to stop blinking for fear they might miss a momentâ¦The silence which settled over the room for the entirety of the performance, was gained not from boredom, but from the almost hypnotic absorption towards the Opera. Tragedies seemed to hold such an odd effect upon audiences, captivating their attention far more than any light spirited romanceâ¦To see young lovers fail, tugged more passionately at the heartstrings, than to see them live happily ever afterâ¦
Curtains were drawn after a heart wrenching two hours for the final bows, and Lucrezia was showered with white roses and applause. The King himself took the stage to congratulate her on a breathtaking debut, and after announcing to all that he would be unable to attend the after-gathering, he encouraged them all to be most gentle with Franceâs most treasured Italian songbird, and to not do anything that may cause her to take flight.
Lucrezia could not help but blush for the entirety of the Kingâs speech. His praise was entirely too generous in her opinion, though she would never be able to understand the arguments that had quelled due to her voice that night. She was the daughter of a fisherman after all; though judging now by the extravagance and regality of her appearance, the ethereal way in which she seemed to carry herself, and not to mention the depth of her purse, one would have never been able to place her birth statusâ¦Though in jest, many of her fellow performers would attribute her stubbornnessâ and rather assertive tendencies, which were quite uncommon characteristics for a French lady Lucrezia quickly noticed, to being products of her inferior upbringing..when truly, she would assure them, many if not all Italian women were like herselfâ¦Determined, and not easily dominated..
Her soft, thick black curls were styled up into a exquisite plaited twist, and adorned with petals of the roses which had been gathered from the stage. A gown of deep purple and white lace held, with a silver tinted bodice tightly fitted to her hourglass shape, pushed up Lucreziaâs more than modest bust, into a most alluring displayâ¦Her creamy white skin a striking contrast to the deep shade of her hair, and the soft hazel hue of her eyes. She was a very lean girl, taller than most of the French women, even if she had gone without shoes. Her legs, though covered by her gown, were long and slender, supported by small elegant feet. Glossy, plump lips curved into a delicate smile as she sipped at a glass of white wine, listening to the thrilled composer Monsieur Lully, boast to several men..-one of which whom seemed more effeminate than Monsieur Lully himself by the way he giggled into his fist in almost-, of how this Opera would have made God himself weep.
The ballroom above the theatre was filled to near capacity, but such was a normal occurrence, especially in France..Events filled to the point where it was almost impossible to move without knocking into someoneâs elbow or traipsing upon someoneâs foot. However, it was late autumn, and it was pleasantly warmer inside than outâ¦and judging by the laughter and smiles, no one seemed to mind the close proximityâ¦Particularly, when it was near the Virtuosa. Many of the musicians had set up in the corner of the room to play atmospheric music for the nobility to dance to if they so desire. Tables were filled with all manners of fine pastries and sweets, wine glasses constantly being refilled; the extravagance of the gathering was almost equivalent to the birth of the sovereign heir!
In Italy, gatherings such as this were typically attended by a select number of nobles and guestsâ¦Intimate settings, to allow proper conversation as opposed to having to shout over hundreds of other voices. Lucrezia, feeling a bit confined perhaps, excused herself from the conversations at hand and made her way out to the balcony for fresh airâ¦After setting her glass upon the rail she sighed, looking out over the streets of France as she licked slowly across her lips, savoring the taste of the sweet wineâ¦The air was stale, almost musky..The fragrance of lewd acts rising from the darkest alleyways..Echoes of moans and grunts drifting upon the wind..
âMi Dioâ¦â
Naïve and flattered by royal recognition, Lucrezia had bid farewell to familiarity, and left for Paris to accept the leading role in Jean Baptiste-Lullyâs, Cadmus et Hermioneâ¦For six months she practiced secretly with only those involved with the show knowing of her presence, in order to secure a more satisfying unveiling, given a private suite in a hotel across from the theatre itself. Though honored by the opportunity and recommendation by the reigning monarch, Lucrezia had found herself insatiably lonely and...flustered, during her time in France thus far..
An opera premiere endorsed by the King was one that was a rare occurrence, and sparked certainly more than intrigue across the country considering His Majesty had hand picked the leading role. Cadmus et Hermione was an invitation only event for itâs first night, guaranteeing that the experience would stir even the coldest manâs heart, and was promised to the commoners to be performed for the public very soon. For the moment however, the Italian delicacy whom performed on the stage of His Majestyâs White Theatre with such haunting grace, was a powerfully influential piece in the plan for the King to keep the nobility from uprising during such a...delicate, time.
The audience seemed to be entranced from the moment the curtains first opened. With the creative genius of the Kingâs most prized composer, and the voice of a young lady so strikingly different than Franceâs typical leading sopranoâs, many attempted to stop blinking for fear they might miss a momentâ¦The silence which settled over the room for the entirety of the performance, was gained not from boredom, but from the almost hypnotic absorption towards the Opera. Tragedies seemed to hold such an odd effect upon audiences, captivating their attention far more than any light spirited romanceâ¦To see young lovers fail, tugged more passionately at the heartstrings, than to see them live happily ever afterâ¦
Curtains were drawn after a heart wrenching two hours for the final bows, and Lucrezia was showered with white roses and applause. The King himself took the stage to congratulate her on a breathtaking debut, and after announcing to all that he would be unable to attend the after-gathering, he encouraged them all to be most gentle with Franceâs most treasured Italian songbird, and to not do anything that may cause her to take flight.
Lucrezia could not help but blush for the entirety of the Kingâs speech. His praise was entirely too generous in her opinion, though she would never be able to understand the arguments that had quelled due to her voice that night. She was the daughter of a fisherman after all; though judging now by the extravagance and regality of her appearance, the ethereal way in which she seemed to carry herself, and not to mention the depth of her purse, one would have never been able to place her birth statusâ¦Though in jest, many of her fellow performers would attribute her stubbornnessâ and rather assertive tendencies, which were quite uncommon characteristics for a French lady Lucrezia quickly noticed, to being products of her inferior upbringing..when truly, she would assure them, many if not all Italian women were like herselfâ¦Determined, and not easily dominated..
Her soft, thick black curls were styled up into a exquisite plaited twist, and adorned with petals of the roses which had been gathered from the stage. A gown of deep purple and white lace held, with a silver tinted bodice tightly fitted to her hourglass shape, pushed up Lucreziaâs more than modest bust, into a most alluring displayâ¦Her creamy white skin a striking contrast to the deep shade of her hair, and the soft hazel hue of her eyes. She was a very lean girl, taller than most of the French women, even if she had gone without shoes. Her legs, though covered by her gown, were long and slender, supported by small elegant feet. Glossy, plump lips curved into a delicate smile as she sipped at a glass of white wine, listening to the thrilled composer Monsieur Lully, boast to several men..-one of which whom seemed more effeminate than Monsieur Lully himself by the way he giggled into his fist in almost-, of how this Opera would have made God himself weep.
The ballroom above the theatre was filled to near capacity, but such was a normal occurrence, especially in France..Events filled to the point where it was almost impossible to move without knocking into someoneâs elbow or traipsing upon someoneâs foot. However, it was late autumn, and it was pleasantly warmer inside than outâ¦and judging by the laughter and smiles, no one seemed to mind the close proximityâ¦Particularly, when it was near the Virtuosa. Many of the musicians had set up in the corner of the room to play atmospheric music for the nobility to dance to if they so desire. Tables were filled with all manners of fine pastries and sweets, wine glasses constantly being refilled; the extravagance of the gathering was almost equivalent to the birth of the sovereign heir!
In Italy, gatherings such as this were typically attended by a select number of nobles and guestsâ¦Intimate settings, to allow proper conversation as opposed to having to shout over hundreds of other voices. Lucrezia, feeling a bit confined perhaps, excused herself from the conversations at hand and made her way out to the balcony for fresh airâ¦After setting her glass upon the rail she sighed, looking out over the streets of France as she licked slowly across her lips, savoring the taste of the sweet wineâ¦The air was stale, almost musky..The fragrance of lewd acts rising from the darkest alleyways..Echoes of moans and grunts drifting upon the wind..
âMi Dioâ¦â