Once upon a time my husband and I were fortunate to be cast in a local production of Amadeus. I was cast as Teresa Salieri, wife of the protagonist, a non-speaking role which allowed me to wear an elegant blue gown and to attend the opera. (Admittedly, my ADHD tendencies came into play at one point and I, along with several other performers sharing a lively chat in the green room, was UNfashionably late for the opera. Oops!)
My husband was cast as one of the two Venticelli or “Little Winds”, whose job it was to keep the story moving through narrative and whispers which took them from past to present in the action. (We lovingly referred to them as the Vermicelli, of course. How could we not!)
Salieri took the audience through the chain of events with a series of lengthy soliloquies which also alternated from present to past to present. This vacillating chronology required several quick costume changes for the Venticelli, who had to go from foppish 18th century court attire with satin, lace, knickers, wigs, and makeup to everyday 18th century street clothes. And, at the time of this production, the theatre’s dressing rooms were located on the second floor — with two long flights of stairs and no elevator to help. Timing is everything! During a long monologue in one performance, as the Little Winds were upstairs halfway between street clothes and wigs, they heard on the monitor as Salieri jumped ahead two and a half pages in dialogue (did I mention l o o o n n g soliloquies?) which indicated an imminent entrance for the Venticelli. Somehow, they managed to scramble to come up with the costume change and fly down the steps without injury, hoping to arrive in time for their entrance. Just as they prepared to go onstage, they were brought to a screeching halt (amazed they didn’t leave skid marks!) as they heard Salieri loop back two and a half pages in his dialogue to the very place from which he had jumped ahead a few minutes prior. Whew!!
Another aside regarding Amadeus, during the run of the show one of the Venticelli (not my husband, thank goodness!) had managed to fall off his icy roof while cleaning gutters and broke his wrist. Luckily the costumes involved very long, lacy sleeves, so his cast was obscured…although his hand gestures were just a bit stiffer than usual.
Well, as they say, the show must go on….