Bryn Mawr College - Bryn Mawr Yearbook (Bryn Mawr, PA)

Page 31 text:

zJfrCusic from a zJhfute {With apologies to Halifax) Our Mute was discovered by Mr. Willoughby in the Music Room on a memorable Friday afternoon in Sep- tember, 1930. Our Mute, be it under- stood, is by no means incapable, but rather over-prolific of the spoken word. When, however, it is demand- ed of her that she sing, a certain buoyancy deserts her vocal system, and a tongue, famous in the family for the soprano pitch to which its screams can rise, when offered musi- cal accompaniment, dwells with re- current and hopeless persistence on the dull tone of Middle C. J Our Mute retired from the en- counter in no way discomposed, for her muteness, while a surprise to Mr. Willoughby, was an old story to her- self. She found, during the weeks that followed, a pleasant satisfaction in the contemplation of her fellow-class- mates as they memorized the words of Sophias, walking of an evening to the Greeks, or antiphonally voiced Hellenic melodies in the nightly tub. When the great Friday arrived, she tiptoed in the Cloisters as decorously as any other black-robed virgin, se- cure in her ensconcement between two resonant sopranos. No one of the un- witting audience guessed that a drone was in the hive, nor did her unsus- pecting Sophomore deliver up a lan- tern less readily to this goose among the swans, who had not earned her hire. Our Mute has always patronized the College Choir in its less soulful efforts. For her all music is bound up in th e classic canon of Gilbert and Sullivan. As a freshman, she giggled and sighed her sympathy with the three little maids from school, when Polachek played Pitti Sing in the Mikado; as a junior, she fell indis- criminately and desperately in love with the Heavy Dragoons. Now, in her senior senility, as she sits dozing in an early morning class, a mist rises before her eyes, through which she dimly sees again Righter across the aisle as the Idyllic Poet, or Culbert- son as the enchanting dairymaid, Pa- tience. Her admiration of the music- leaders, Bertolet, Meneely, and their crew, has induced her to be constantly associated with them, in a brave new world where she may sing vicariously when so moved. They, however, still deplore her unblushing lack of taste, when she declares herself reluctant to curtail the weekly sea-food lunch for the charms of Stokowski and his di- vine musicians on a Friday afternoon. Indeed, her appearance at Parzival in the orchestra stalls last Easter puz- zled the whole college, until, on being questioned, she admitted she was motivated by the meanest curiosity, to observe how her pink party dress looked on her roommate in the Maid- ens ' Chorus. 27

Page 30 text:

4ifc damned for dullness, for it is the most insipid, ridiculous play that ever I saw in my life, and pleased me not at all. February 12, 1934. This afternoon Jones did take me behind the scenes at the King ' s Playhouse, to see the company rehearsing, and the tire- women making the dresses; and to in- struct me a little in the making of scenes, whereof I have ever had a great curiosity. There I did meet the directors (among whom, indeed, Jones also is one of the best) : Barber, Schwab (who is also the Manager of the company), and Coxe. Among those chiefly responsible for the mak- ing of dresses and scenes are Barber, Coxe, Duany, Goldwasser, Lee and Robinson. Among their chief assist- ants are Bishop, Bowie, Butler, Car- ter, Coleman, Fox, Fraser, Jarrett, F. F. Jones, Landreth, Laudenberger, Mackenzie, McCormick, Meneely, Miles, H. J. Mitchell, Nelson, Nichols, Pleasanton, B. E. Smith (no relation to E. E. Smith, hitherto mentioned, and who is also concerned in these technical matters of the Theatre), and De Varon. 26

Page 32 text:

On only one occasion has Our Mute felt definitely her mistake in being born without the gift of song. The story is a sad one. In the guerilla warfare between the Sophomores and Freshmen over the Animal of 1935, Our Mute throughout the week played a distinguished part. She did not balk at sitting up all night to listen for odd sounds of hostile action; she rose at six on Saturday to patrol the Goodhart walk. At six o ' clock that evening, as the show was being cos- tumed, she strolled behind the build- ing to take a breath of air. Sounds floated toward her on the balmy sun- set breeze. She crept over to a light- ed window, and, looking in, beheld a cluster of singing freshmen rehears- ing loudly with last-minute abandon the precious animal song. Conceive her excitement as she drank in words and tune. Alas! conceive her horror, when she realized as all was over that, however she might reproduce the words, the tune had fallen on such barren ground as to be forever lost. In an agony of insufficiency, she forthwith fled the spot, never breathing to her classmates how near the victory had been. Her secret is her own until her death: then she knows there will be found the image of the Phoenix engraven on her heart. 28