Alvin Lucier / I am sitting in a room

Worth listening to:

http://www.last.fm/music/Alvin+Lucier/_/I+Am+Sitting+In+A+Room?autostart

LISTENING FOR THIS WEEK

Hello All
Here are a lot of relatively short pieces to listen to for next week. Please listen to them in order - they are chronological, beginning before jazz and continuing into present day. When listening, consider improvisation vs. composition - i.e. what do you think is written, and what do you think is made up on the spot.

You don't have to listen to them all at once, but do try and just LISTEN. Don't wash the dishes, don't check your email.

LOVE SUPREME (Coltrane) is in four movements. If you like, you can just listen to the first movement. BLACK, BROWN, BEIGE (Ellington) is constructed as (sort of) a symphony. Feel free to listen to as much as you care to, at least the first movement.

I'll post these on the blog too. And we will listen to a couple of these in class again on Monday.

Thanks!
Lisa


Louis Gottschalk: http://www.last.fm/music/Louis+Moreau+Gottschalk/_/Le+bananier%2C+Chanson+negre%2C+Op.+5?autostart

Scott Joplin: http://www.last.fm/music/Scott+Joplin/_/Elite+Syncopations?autostart

Louis Armstron, Heebie Jeebies:
http://www.last.fm/music/Louis+Armstrong/_/Heebie+Jeebies

Duke Ellington: Black Brown Beige (Please listen to at least first movement)
http://www.last.fm/music/Duke+Ellington/Black%252C%2BBrown%252C%2B%2526%2BBeige?autostart

Charlie Parker - Donna Lee
http://www.last.fm/music/Charlie+Parker/_/Donna+Lee?autostart

John Coltrane: Love Supreme (Please try and listen to at least the first movement)
http://www.last.fm/music/John+Coltrane/A+Love+Supreme?autostart

Eric Dolphy: Out TO Lunch
http://www.last.fm/music/Eric+Dolphy/_/Out+to+Lunch?autostart

Cecil Taylor: Cell Walk for Celeste (11 minutes long -- try and hold out through the whole thing; it is demanding)
http://www.last.fm/music/Cecil+Taylor/_/Cell+Walk+For+Celeste+(Take+1)?autostart

Peter Brotzman: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIbQG2oSpo8&feature=related

Derek Bailey/Tony Oxley:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f20VQjKH9xk&feature=related

John Zorn: COBRA
http://www.last.fm/music/John+Zorn/Cobra%3A+John+Zorn%27s+Game+Pieces%2C+Volume+2

John ZorN conducting COBRA:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=otrr-LhkX-s&feature=related

Boulez Quote

That I mentioned in class but couldn't quite remember:

I wanted to eradicate from my vocabulary absolutely every trace of the conventional, whether it concerned figures and phrases, or development and form; I then wanted gradually, element after element, to win back the various stages of the compositional process, in such a manner that a perfectly new synthesis might arise, a synthesis that would not be corrupted from the very outset by foreign bodies—stylistic reminiscences in particular. (Boulez 1986a, 61)

It is from this wikipedia entry on one of his compositions, a series called Structures:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Structures_(Boulez)

Tone Row Possibilities

Hi All.

Some thoughts towards creating a 6 element "tone row" for your scenes, if you have not started yet.

One thing that might help you upon starting is make a rule for yourself as to how you are going to integrate your tone row scheme into your scene. Will it be every line is a new "note"? Every 3 words? The "note" shifts every time a new character speaks? Once you decide, try to stick to this rule (although certainly you will break it once or twice)

Here are some examples of some ways you could create your primary tone row.

STRUCTURAL
Entrances and Exits
(Ex: Super Slow Entrance, Cautious Entrance, Fast Entrance, Fast Exit, Despondant Exit, Super Slow Exit.)

Transitions
(Ex: Lights up bright, Lights change to red, Black Out, Sound Cue, New Set Piece Rolls on, Extreme Costume Change)

Musical (to be applied to lines and silences)
(Ex: Stacatto, Retard (slow down), Extended Syllable, Repeat 3X, Glissando (high to low or low to high), Pianissimo (very quiet)

CHARACTER

Moods
(Ex: Ecstatic, Furious, Mildly Amused, Mildly Irritated, Deadpan, No reaction)

Desires (this is a bit of a wild card - not exactly sure how this translates into speech, but it is interesting to think about and could be a fantastic failure!)
(Ex: Wants Food, Wants Sex, Wants Money, Wants Affirmation, Wants to be Hurt, Wants to be Famous)

MORE RANDOM/DA DA
Bad Accents (Assign each a numerical value, accents must shift through the scene, could be one accent per line, characters could shift accents within monologues, etc.
(Ex: Irish, Chinese, African American, Minnesotan, French, Yiddish, Russian)

Objects (Appearing / reappearing / being referred to or I suppose possibly even the objects are the characters)
(Ex: Roll of Toilet Paper, Apple, Piggy Bank, Feather Pillow, Sword, Coffee Pot)

Melody

Skylight
by Corrie
(a fugue in three voices)

Late afternoon. The sun sliding through the trees. Faint chatter of crickets and birds.
Hansel and Gretel are holding hands and walking, their feet crunching on the leaves in a steady rhythm.
They are both adults. Water is rising to their ankles.

Hansel
Tell me a story.

Gretel
What kind of a story?

Hansel
I don’t know. Any kind.

Gretel
It was a dark and stormy night.

Hansel
Stormy and dark, stormy and dark.

Gretel
With the lights turned out and the moon alone in the sky.

Hansel
Alone in the sky? Tell me a different story.

Gretel
It was a bright and sunny day.

Hansel
Sunny and bright, sunny and bright.

Gretel
With all the lights turned up and the sun filling the sky –

They stop. They look at each other. They change places. They walk faster. Water is rising to their knees.

Hansel
Ask me a question.

Gretel
What kind of a question?

Hansel
Any kind, any kind.

Gretel
Are you hungry?

Hansel
Are you hungry?

Gretel
I see a house, alone in the forest.

She points. They stop. They look at each other. They climb a tree, slowly. Water laps beneath them.

Hansel
I see a house, alone in the forest.

Gretel
We are alone in the forest.

Hansel
I am your house.

Gretel
You’re being melodramatic.

Hansel
I am /dramatic.

Gretel
You’re always melodramatic.

Hansel
You make me melodramatic.

They sit on a sturdy branch. They swing their legs in unison, to a steady beat.
The witch approaches them. She walks in a different rhythm to their swinging. She floats on water.

Witch
Hello. How old are you?

Hansel
Younger than you are/

Gretel
Older than you think.

Hansel
You are a stranger.

Witch
I am simply strange.

Gretel
We don’t talk to strangers.

Witch
Strangers don’t talk to you.

Hansel
She is strange.

Gretel
You shouldn’t say that in front of her.

Witch
You can tell me anything.

Hansel
Tell us a story.

Witch
I can tell you the most wonderful, the most beautiful and marvelous story in the world.

Gretel
Can you really?

Hansel
Can you?

Witch
Once upon a time, there were two children living in atree.

Hansel
It was a dark and stormy night with the moon alone in the sky.

Gretel
It was a bright and sunny day with the sun filling the sky.

Witch
It was a stormy and sunny day, and the moon and sun shared a sky.
And the moon and sun were young and afraid.

Gretel
You’re lying.

Hansel
She’s not lying.

Gretel
You wouldn’t be able to tell. You’re never able to tell anything.

Hansel
That’s because you do all the telling.

Witch
And on that day the sun and moon had a terrible, terrible fight.

Hansel
Is that why they never see each other these days?

Gretel
Is that why they never share a sky these days?

Witch
And because of that fight they sent clouds to hide the distance between them.

Hansel
Clouds.

Gretel
Between them.

Hansel
Why were

Gretel
they fighting?

Witch
Nobody knows, nobody knows.

Gretel
Nobody knew.

Hansel
Somebody does.

Hansel and Gretel
You knew, of course.

Witch
I never said that I did.

Hansel
But you did.

Gretel
What did you do?

Witch
Follow me, and I will tell you.

Gretel
Into the house alone in the forest?

Hansel
We are alone in the forest.

Witch
Into the house alone in the forest, where I live.

They climb down the tree. They wade through the water to the house in the forest.

Witch
Here’s the door.

Gretel
A door alone in the forest.

Hansel
The sun and the moon in the sky.

Witch
Open the door.

They open the door. They are swimming, now.

Witch
I can tell you anything. I can be anything you want me to be.

Hansel
I am not your house.

Gretel
I am not your door.

Melody

Scene based on the Pop approach to the Melodic line
By Sara Molinaro

Scene: An all-girls summer camp in rural New Hampshire. The girls of Cabin 19 are “Cherokees,” the camp’s six- to eight-year-old division. It is around 11:45 in the morning, just at the end of free play time before lunch.

The girls are playing on and around two picnic tables, which are in front of a green cabin. They have two counselors-- 19-year-old girls drinking herbal tea out of Mason jars-- who sit and supervise them without doing much of anything.

Annie, Brianna, Caitlin, and Danielle are playing in front of the tables in the dirt, near a clump of trees.

BRIANNA:

Do you know this one?

She holds her hands out, palms pressed together, indicating the beginning of a hand-clapping game.

CAITLIN:

Oop-boop-she-battin-battin?

BRIANNA:

Yeah!

Caitlin holds her hands out in the same way and the two girls begin to recite a nonsense poem.

CAITLIN and BRIANNA:

Oop-boop-she-battin-battin, bo-bo-kee-wattin-wattin, me-no-my-no make your mother cry

Annie and Danielle are running around, seemingly without an end goal, the way small children do when they have a lot of energy. Annie runs to a nearby tree, and momentarily disappears behind it. She emerges screaming, loudly, in delight.

ANNIE:

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

DANIELLE: (in response)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

ANNIE:

Will you form a secret club with me?

DANIELLE:

Well, what kind of secret club?

ANNIE:

The secret club of the forest queens!

DANIELLE:

And we will be the forest queens?

ANNIE:

YES!

They both run behind the tree and stay behind for a little longer this time.

CAITLIN and BRIANNA:

Bo-bo-skee-dat-in-dat-in—

BRIANNA:

Wait!

Caitlin stops, startled.

BRIANNA:

Did you hear her?

CAITLIN:

Who?

BRIANNA:

Annie! She said she is forming a SECRET club! We’re not allowed to HAVE secret clubs!

CAITLIN:

Well, maybe we can ask her if we can—

Brianna leaves Caitlin sitting in the dirt and runs over to Rebecca, one of their counselors. As this happens, Annie and Danielle emerge from behind the tree, their faces smeared with dirt in a warrior-like pattern.

BRIANNA:

Rebecca! Rebecca!

REBECCA:

What’s going on?

BRIANNA:

Annie and Danielle are having a secret club and they’re not letting anyone join! That’s against the rules!

REBECCA:

Did you ask Annie and Danielle if you could join their club?

BRIANNA:

No, but I HEARD her SAY that it was SECRET!

Rebecca pats the wooden bench next to where she’s sitting.

REBECCA:

Come sit for a second.

(Brianna does.)

Brianna, how old are you?

BRIANNA:

Seven and a half.

REBECCA:

How old is Annie?

BRIANNA:

I don’t know.

REBECCA:

She’s only six. She’s one of the littlest girls in the cabin.

BRIANNA:

Oh.

REBECCA:

So I’m sure if you ask her, politely, to let you and Caitlin into her game, she’d be excited to play with a big girl like you! OK?

BRIANNA:

OK.

Brianna runs back to Caitlin. Annie and Danielle, are sitting solemnly in front of the tree, trying to make some sort of structure out of sticks.

DANIELLE:

You see? You must push the sticks into the dirt to make them stand up straight!

Danielle has created a pretty sophisticated little structure out of sticks. Annie’s is a big mess. Annie tries to imitate what Danielle is doing, but she lacks the fine motor skills.

ANNIE:

I like the way mine looks!

(She pushes the sticks around into an even bigger mess, just to make her point.)

The goddess of the forest queens will love it even more!

DANIELLE:

But look at this! A small animal or a fairy could live inside here!

Annie stares at Danielle, her face suddenly filled with rage.

ANNIE:

The goddess of the forest queens hates fairies!

DANIELLE:

But… I like fairies!

ANNIE:

Ok. The goddess of the forest queens will like what you made.

(There is a dramatic pause.)

BUT WHAT IF IT’S OPPOSITE DAY?!?!

Annie stands up and bolts away from Danielle. Danielle, left dirty, insulted, and alone, bursts out into tears. Kristen, the closest counselor, sees this and calls her over.

KRISTEN:

Hey Danielle? Come on over here with me!

Danielle, still hiccup-crying, walks over.

KRISTEN:

Can I ask you a question, kiddo?

DANIELLE:

What (hiccup) kind of question?

KRISTEN:

Why do you have dirt all over your face?

As Danielle talks, Kristen unties the bandana from her Mason jar and uses it to wipe the dirt off Danielle’s face.

DANIELLE:

Annie and I (hiccup) were playing secret forest queens but then (hiccup) we were making stick houses and Danielle said it’s opposite dayyyy!

(She bursts into tears again.)

KRISTEN:

Hey hey, listen to me. I’ll tell you a secret.

DANIELLE:

Oh-kay.

KRISTEN:

The secret about opposite day is that it can never be opposite day!

DANIELLE:

What do you mean?

KRISTEN:

Well, if it really was opposite day, you would have to say that it’s not opposite day, because that’s the opposite of it being opposite day! And if it really was the opposite of a day, it wouldn’t even be a day! It just wouldn’t exist. So there’s really no such thing as opposite day.

DANIELLE:

Really?

KRISTEN:

Really. Now go wash your hands, ok, because we’re going to lunch soon.

Danielle runs away, happier. Rebecca and Kristen, momentarily alone, look at each other.

REBECCA:

Well?

KRISTEN:

Looks like it’s about time.

REBECCA:

CHEROKEES! Time for lunch! Get lined up in front of Kristen!

KRISTEN:

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six— Melanie, your other shoe is right there— five, four, three-- great!

They start to lead the line of little girls away from their cabin.

REBECCA:

Hey Cherokees… look at the sky! Doesn’t it look like it’s about to be…

REBECCA and KRISTEN:

A FLASH FLOOD!

On cue, all the girls jump up onto a higher surface— picnic tables, rocks, tree stumps, logs, whatever is around— as though an imaginary flood is coming to swallow them up.

KRISTEN:

Is everyone safe?

(She looks around.)

No one drowned? Awesome job, Cherokees! Flood is gone! Let’s go eat lunch!

The girls come down from their posts and skip/run/jump away from the cabin.

CAITLIN:

Is it grilled cheese day?

REBECCA:

Nope, Wednesdays are tacos. Grilled cheese on Friday, kiddo.

End.

Melody

A Forest A Flood A Fugue
By Mia Rovegno
pop melody


Hesther sits under a tree.
Hal picks up twigs and throws them into the quarry.
He also picks up rocks and throws them into the quarry.

skip skip skip plunk.

Hesther throws sticks at Hal. They bounce off his head.

Thwack.
Thwack.

He doesn't flinch.
This continues.
Hesther plunges her bare feet into the mud and stares at Hal.

Thwack.

skip skip skip plunk.

Thwack.

Hesther sings.

Hesther
You you you with your spark-el-y shoes
Wanna sing sing sing sing the blues blues blues
Wanna eat-a-piece-of-cake
Wanna jump-into-the-lake
Wanna take take take
Wanna boy who's-on-the-make

Hal
How old are you?

Hesther
Shut up.

Thwack.

Hal
Tssss

Thunder rolls far off in the mountain ranges.
Hesther looks at Hal. Hal looks at Hesther.
Hesther gets up and stares at the edge of the quarry.
Her hands absentmindedly wipe at her pants. Wet mud from her hands seeps darkly into the fabric, layered on top of dried, caked dirt.
Thunder rumbles.
She stares.

Hesther
Hm.

Hal
Not yet.

Hesther sighs and rushes to the quarry.
She plunges her feet deep in the cold water and screams.
The mud drips down the skin on her feet.
She rushes to the edge of the quarry and begins singing again.

Hesther
You you you with your spark-el-y shoes
Wanna sing sing sing sing the blues blues blues
Wanna eat-a-piece-of-cake
Wanna jump-into-the-lake
Wanna take take take
Wanna boy who's-on-the-make

Her little hands pull at large chunks of muddy earth.
She turns to Hal with her eyes wide.

Hesther
Don't you have a question for me?

Hal
What kind of question?

Hesther
You know what kind

Hal
What kind?

Hesther
You know what kind.

Hal
Right.
...
...
What time is it?

Hesther
It's time for you to bring me my shoes.
...
It's time.

Hal
It's time, is it?

Hesther
It's time.
It's time.
It's time.

Hal
It's time is it?

Hesther
It's time.
...

Thwack

Hesther
Now you ask me what they look like

Hal
What do they look like?

Hesther
They're purple and shiny and strappy

Hal
Like the shoes of a woman?

Hesther
Like the shoes of a woman.

Hal
A real woman?

Hesther
A REAL WOMAN

Hal
What else?

Hesther
They're pink and soft like fur on the belly of a cat

Hal
What else?

Hesther
And they sparkle

Hal
What else?

Hesther
They make my feet smell like lavender

Hal
And what else

Hesther
I float above the ground when I walk in them

Hal
Oh those shoes.

Hesther
Those are the ones.

Hal
Yes those are the ones.
...
...
...
I'll go look for them.

Hesther
It's about time.

Thwack.

Hal grabs a stick and disappears into the woods. He knocks the stick against each tree trunk he passes.

Thwump.
Thwump.
Thwump.
thwump.
thwump.
thwump.
thwump.
thwump.
thwump.
thwump.

Hesther whistles to herself. Thunder rumbles. A light rain begins.
She sings.

Hesther
You you you with your spark-el-y shoes
Wanna sing sing sing sing the blues blues blues
Wanna eat-a-piece-of-cake
Wanna jump-into-the-lake
Wanna take take take
Wanna boy who's-on-the-make
purple shiner black and blue
so so strapping no just scrappy true
pink soft furry belly sparkle in your eye pop
a lavender ice cream float with a cherry on top

Hesther looks up to the sky.
The rain starts to fall in sheets across the mountains.
The mud starts to flow in rivers into the quarry. The water gushes down the hills.
Hesther hums to herself.

She is now sitting in a large pool of water, the mud breaking up and washing away around her. The water begins to rise around her muddy legs, washing them clean.
She hums to herself and picks her feet up to admire them.
The water gushes around her, and lifts her into its grasp.
She is swept up and taken down the mountain.

The water rises and she is swept away, underneath its surface, and disappears out of sight.
Underneath the water's surface, she still hums to herself, eyes closed, dreaming of lavender ice cream floats with a cherry on top.

Melody

Melody Assignment

Lizzie Vieh
LITR1110
Assignment 3

Baroque Style


A luxurious apartment in a Phoenix senior-citizens community.
The décor is elegant and old-fashioned.
A woman in her 80’s, Astrid, sits in a wheelchair. She is wearing a floral satin robe over a white nightgown.
Next to her sits Pam, a young woman in a turquoise nurse’s outfit.
Across from them sits Louis, a scholarly man in his 40s, wearing a corduroy jacket and khakis. He takes notes on a legal pad.
It is 11 pm, August.
It is pouring rain. The balcony door is propped open.

ASTRID
When I moved here in the 30s it rained at least 20 inches a year. All of August, we’d get a monsoon every afternoon. Around 5. We knew we had to get the horses in by then, cause they’d run away at the thunder and the lightning. It would pour. Buckets and buckets. Flash floods on the roads, not that we had many roads then. Dirt, what we did have. My mare Loopy would thrash against the sides of her stalls. I tried to calm her down, slipped in to her stall. She threw me against the wall, broke three of my ribs. I was in a body cast for over a year. It’s not easy to find a dress that covers a full-body cast.

PAM (to Louis)
Can I get you something to drink?

ASTRID
Cool cider is best in August. We had a stable-hand, he’d make it himself. I think he also made moonshine, but in those days, nobody minded. Sometimes around Christmas I ‘d ride Loopy out to Frank Lloyd Wright’s—he had a house way out there in the McDowells—my mother would say, “Take this bottle of champagne to Mr. Wright, and tell him Happy Christmas.”

PAM
We have water, orange juice, Diet Coke, or any kind of hard drink you’d like.

LOUIS
I’m fine thank you. You met Frank Lloyd Wright?

ASTRID
They lived at Taliesin, which is actually a Welsh word. He ran his architecture school out there. George Mayshaw was one of his students. We went out several times, with my mother. He was delighted to go out with both of us. He said he’d never met a woman as charming as my mother. The first time he came to the door, she answered, and he blurted out, “How old are you?” He thought she must be my sister. She was very beautiful, Ruth.

PAM
Well, please don’t mind if I help myself to something.

LOUIS
Not at all.

Pam heads to a tray of crystal decanters at the bar. She fills a short glass with scotch. She comes back to her seat next to Astrid. She drinks in sudden, large gulps.

LOUIS
Now, what year was it that your mother first met Robert Oppenheimer?

ASTRID
My father and my mother bought the house on 2060 Del Maro right after they got married, and they moved there in 1919. My mother always said that the first months of her marriage were the happiest times of her life. My father carried her over the front doorstep and she had to pile

PAM— (deadpan)
-her veil into her lap because it was so long and she didn’t want to drag it on the floor. And he had to duck to get through the front door because the doorway was short because the house had been built haphazard, piece by piece, without any plan.

LOUIS
Excuse me?

PAM
What kind of question is that.

LOUIS
I’m a bit taken aback…

Pam sips.

ASTRID
As a little girl, I always liked to think the house had secret passages. My brother George and I would look for them. We thought the house was haunted, and it must have a secret passage. We never found one, we did find a storage space up above the living room though. George climbed up there one day, and it wasn’t very well-supported

PAM
So after he’d crawled over a little ways the boards started to creak and he yelled “Astrid! Help!” and he comes crashing through the ceiling and lands right on Mother’s red velvet sofa.

Pam sips

LOUIS
Is there…May I ask--

PAM
I’ve heard her a thousand times. She has about thirty stories and they just rotate. The George in the storage space one drives me nuts. It turns up with particular frequency.

LOUIS
I don’t think that’s fair, Astrid, you have a wonderful memory.

PAM
She can’t hear you.

LOUIS
Excuse me?

PAM
She can hear, she just doesn’t really track what people are saying. Her mind’s an overgrown forest. If what she says happens to answer your question, it’s only because something you said triggered a story in her rotation.

LOUIS
Astrid, I don’t believe that’s the truth. We’ve been having a beautiful conversation.

Silence.

LOUIS
Astrid?

Silence.

PAM
The Limeliters.

ASTRID
My husband Dan and I would have our friends Annie and Bill over for dinner all the time and one night we had just moved into our new house that had a swimming pool. Dan put on his Limeliters album, it had my favorite song “Hey Liley-Liley,” and we’d had a bit to drink, and Bill picked me up and threw me in the pool with my clothes on!

PAM
Then Annie pushed Bill in, and Dan jumped in to join the fun.

ASTRID
We ended up playing a vicious game of tag on the golf course, and of course it was late night so eventually the sprinklers turned on, but we didn’t mind, we were already wet.
It was a full moon that night, and Annie was wearing a white dress. You could see her underwear through the dress because it was white, and I’ll never forget, Dan pinched her fanny and said,

PAM and ASTRID
“Two full moons.”

PAM
That was the night my son Dan Jr. was conceived. It was a lovely night, and he’s a lovely boy. Dan Jr. was my first child, and the only one of my children who ever really loved me. I think you need some help.

LOUIS
Do I just say “Robert Oppenheimer?”

ASTRID
My father and my mother bought the house on 2060 Del Maro right after they got married, and they moved there in 1919. My mother always said that the first months of her marriage were the happiest times of her life.

PAM
My father carried her over the front doorstep and she had to pile her veil into her lap because it was so long and she didn’t want to drag it on the floor. And he had to duck to get through the front door because the doorway was short because the house had been built haphazard, piece by piece--

PAM and LOUIS
Without any plan.

LOUIS
How do I get her to talk about him.

PAM
Train tracks.

ASTRID
When the stock market crashed we heard about bankers in New York City checking into high-rise hotels and jumping out of the window. We laughed at those stories. But my father, he lost everything in ’29. And I think too, there were some problems with my mother. She was a very beautiful woman. Men were always looking at her. We had a handsome neighbor at the time at 2060. He’d come over every day to take my mother to lunch. I was eight years old and one day I came home from school and Tessy our maid took me into the kitchen and said “Astrid, you be a good girl, your daddy’s very sick.”
The next morning my mother was packing up the house, and a week later we were in Europe and Mother left me in a convent in Geneva. It wasn’t until years later that my brother George told me that my father had walked in front of an oncoming train.

PAM
Love letters.

ASTRID
Mother died in 1983. It was left me to clean out her house. She had lovely things. Beautiful jewelry, silks, furs. But the real treasure was in her garage. Old shoebox from Sak’s, nothing fancy. I was going to throw it in the trash, but something made me look inside. An enormous stack of love letters, two years worth, between my mother and the inventor of the atomic bomb, Mr. Robert Oppenheimer. A lovely man. He’d come over every day to take my mother to lunch. I was eight years old and one day I came home from school and Tessy our maid took me into the kitchen and said “Astrid, you be a good girl, your daddy’s very sick.”
Pam and Louis speak over the next part of Astrid’s story
The next morning my mother was packing up the house, and a week later we were in Europe and Mother left me in a convent in Geneva. It wasn’t until years later that my brother George told me that my father had walked in front of an oncoming train.

PAM
Whoops, sorry, wrong turn.

LOUIS
She still has the letters?

PAM
They’re in her security box at the bank.

LOUIS
You know I can’t afford to buy them, I just want to read them, study them, for the book.

PAM
She could get a lot of money for them.

ASTRID (triggered by the word “book”)
My father has a Bible that is almost four hundred years old. His ancestors brought it over the ocean from Bavaria. In the back, on the blank pages, are written in tiny careful cursive the birth and death dates of my ancestors for hundreds of years. My father wrote in my name and my brother’s name, and when he died I wrote in his name. That Bible is worth a fortune, but I wouldn’t part with it

PAM
For the world.