Leib writes letter after letter to the female star
of his opera—and at last hears back.
LEIB GOLDKORN
AIRPORT PRAGUE-RUZNYE
TERMINAL 1
November 12, 2005
MISS RENÉE FLEMING
THE METROPOLITAN OPERA
LINCOLN CENTER
NEW YORK, N.Y. 10023
My dear Madam Fleming:
Greetings from old Prague! And from L. Goldkorn, Graduate, Akademie für Musik, Philosophie, und darstellende Kunst. Also, onetime Glockenspieler of the Vienna State Opera; flautist with the National Biscuit Company Symphonia, A. Toscanini conductor; and Bechstein artist in the Steinway Quintet. Current status: widower. And you, madam: If I am not in error, are you not a gay divorcee? Loneliness we have in common. Also our art.
I have in these brief moments before boarding Flight 0050 time only to express with my Waterman how the prospect of hearing your voice in the role of Princess Emma fills an old heart—I dare not mention its numerical years!—with coltishness. Think of it, my dear! The premiere of Gustav Mahler’s only opera. What a worldwide Phänomen! The Spaniard Domingo will sing the title role. And E. Wiesel is coming, too!
Ach! There go the three bells. Key of C, key of G, key, again, of G. Farewell, Iglau! Farewell, my youth! Farewell, the sweet smell of hops, the perfume of lindens. Entre nous, I have reason to believe I shall soon experience the uplifting aroma of Tommy Girl. Energetic floral notes, sandalwood, and heather. Ja! At ten thousand meters! And then, the myriad ordures of the big city, where I shall be, my lady, but a single zip code away from you.
Sincerely yours,
L. Goldkorn, Graduate
A.f.M.P.u.d.K.
Post Scriptum
You may write me at the Casa Blanca
138 West 80th Street
N.Y., N.Y. 10024
Suite Cinc-Derriere
LEIB GOLDKORN
THE PENTHOUSE
LA CASA BLANCA
November 20th, 2005
MISS RENÉE FLEMING
THE METROPOLITAN OPERA
LINCOLN CENTER
NEW YORK, N.Y. 10023
My Dear Madam Fleming:
It seems my letter to you has not yet crossed the storm-tossed seas. Or else it has been misplaced by the Togolanders, oft prone to such errors. Poor people, so far from their huts on the savanna. Another possibility: I did not, on the envelope, affix sufficient volleyballers (sport-heroes of the Czechists). If such is the case my missive will be arriving soon by steamship. Someday I hope to tell you persönlich, or tête-à-tête, as they say in La Belle France, the interesting tale of my relation to our composer, G. Mahler. A clue: Think of the Krupnick side of the family. Meanwhile, please be assured that I am each day working at the B. Greengrass establishment on the English translation of your role as Princess Emma. For instance, here is the moment when, after the abduction, you awake from your trance:
Wo bin ich? Ha. Ich fass’ es kaum
(erblickt Rübezahl)
O weh mir!—Es ist kein Traum!
Where am I? Where? It’s all so queer.
(spies Rübezahl)
Ach! It’s no dream! Oy veh ist mir!
I need not explain to you, madam, that to translate the words of Herr Mahler—(Do you wish a further clue? Bueno. Fact one: The date of a certain person’s birth is Nine November—Ha! Ha! Do not ask the year. Fact two: On February 24 of that same fateful annum the composer had a nuit d’amore with one Falma Goldkorn, née Krupnick. With fertilization. Do the math, Frau Fleming. Do the math—
To return hors de parenthèse: the translation of the words of G. Mahler is less important than the exploration of their deepest meaning. That is a task we must leave for future epistalations. Here is a third fact: In the City of New York there are 220 streets that run perpendicular to the East and H. Hudson Rivers. Fact four: Twenty such streets constitute one mile. Fact five, the finale: I am at West 80th Street. You are West 64th. Ergo, it is perhaps not a fantasia to believe I can detect the practice notes that rise from your “chest” zone, vibrate past the glottis and epiglottis, then fly in trills and tremolos into—dare I say it?—the air we urbanites breathe in common.
Au revoir,
“Leib” Goldkorn, Graduate
HIGH IN LA CASA BLANCA
November 29th, 2005
MISS RENÉE FLEMING
THE METROPOLITAN OPERA
LINCOLN CENTER
NEW YORK, N.Y. 10023
My dear Madam Fleming:
Still coy, my kitten? You make me feel like Prince Ratibor, though he is somewhat younger than truly yours. Younger even than Signor Pavarotti (this is not a spring chicken), who has agreed to play the role of that ardent lover. Poor Prince! Unhappy Graduate! Each knows that his beloved is near, very near—perhaps less than an American mile. Yet from her comes not a single word; of her white hands, mature torso, and the upturned nose of a blue-blood, not a single glimpse. How to escape these tormenting thoughts when all about him, par exemple, the sky glimpsed through a penthouse window, the fur on a feline, the porcelain of a Magic Chef oven—all remind him of the blue of his mistress’s eyes, the strands of her chestnut hair, the creamy expanse of her noble brow? And other parts. Listen to the sighs of the pining Prince:
Und mag ich träumen oder wachen
mir klinget immer ihr silbern Lachen!
Whether I dream or whether I wake
Her silvery laugh doth take the cake.
Can there be the least doubt, madam, that the lament of Ratibor is the sad song within the composer’s own heart? There Herr Mahler was in Vienna, dreaming of the woman he had left behind in—very well, I shall say it—Iglau, a town which lay but a short train ride away, but which might as well have been in ice-locked Antarctica or in the underground kingdom of the jealous gnome—so high were the borders of decorum that kept him from embracing his beloved and holding high with a cry of delight his newborn son. Button nose. Notable ears. Baldish. Who, my dear, could this little chap be? That shall remain our secret.
Basta! Addio!
Your “Leibie”
Post Scriptum
Please send signed photo, medium décolletage, to the address above.
RENÉE FLEMING APPRECIATION SOCIETY
9782 DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR., BLVD.
BRONX, N.Y. 14587
December 2, 2005
MR. LEIB GOLDKORNS
138 WEST 80TH STREET
NEW YORK, N.Y. 10024
Dear Mr. Goldkorns,
Thank you for your interest in Renée Fleming. I regret to inform you that we cannot provide signed pictures of Miss Fleming unless your request is accompanied by a check for twenty-five dollars made out to the R.F.A.S., Inc. However, we are pleased to enclose this schedule of Miss Fleming’s upcoming 2006 season and tour, featuring performances in Eugene Onegin, La Traviata, and her signature appearance in the title role of Antonin Dvorak’s wonderful fairy-tale opera, Rusalka. We are also enclosing a discount coupon for the purchase of her new album, Love Sublime.
Thank you once again for contacting the Renée Fleming Appreciation Society and for your interest in this great star.
Sincerely,
E. E. Zinggieser,
Secretary
R.F.A.S.
LEIB GOLDKORN
LA CASA BLANCA
ISLE OF MANHATTAN
December 4, 2005
MR. JOSEPH VOLPE
GESCHÄFTSFÜHRER,
THE METROPOLITAN OPERA,
LINCOLN CENTER
NEW YORK, N.Y. 10023
Caro Giuseppe,
Remove R. Fleming from role of Emma in world premiere Rübezahl. Stop. Cause: Aufmüpfigkeit. Stop. Also violation of Kommunikationsprotokoll. Stop. Engage at once Anna Netrebko. Stop. Provide signed photo of same. Stop. Invite V. Putin World Premiere. Stop. Inform winner of Russian Federation State Prize that L. Goldkorn, Graduate, kisses her hand.
Cordiali saluti,
Leib Goldkorn, Regisseur
RENÉE FLEMING
9 THISTLE ROAD
ESSEX FALLS, N.J. 07021
December 7, 2005
MR. LEIB GOLDKORN
LA CASA BLANCA
138 W. 80TH STREET
NEW YORK, N.Y. 10024
Dear Leib Goldkorn!
How embarrassed I am! How can I apologize? It is all a terrible mistake. Your letters—your kind, warm, and intriguing letters—all arrived at the opera house and only this very morning reached my home on Thistle Road. There is so much to digest and think over that I am eager to read everything again. But I wanted to write you at once to let you know that the part of Emma seems perfect for me. Already I imagine myself waking from the magic trance and seeing before me the hideous and all-powerful Rübezahl.
Did you know that in the role of Rusalka I am also put under a spell, though this time it is to leave the world of spirits and join the world of men? Sometimes I feel that I have been sleeping my whole life and that one day I shall wake to see before me—well, instead of a “wart-covered gnome,” a gentleman of taste and musicianship and genuine erudition. We can dream!
Mr. Goldkorn, I have to tell you that I am already under the spell of your old-world charm. How is it that you are able to understand me so completely? And we haven’t even met! Is it because we both have had our share of loneliness? Permit me to express my sorrow at the passing of your wife. She must have been a very special person. And, yes, it is true: art we share as well. At least I do my best each day with those “trills and tremolos” to improve my modest skills.
Of course, there is one more thing we have in common: our secret! Yes, Leib Goldkorn, I have solved the riddle of that little boy, that fatherless boy, in the little town of Iglau. On the banks of the sparkling Iglawa. With the smell of cheroots from the tobacco monopoly in the air. You see, my maître, that I am a hard worker. I have done my research. Shall I write here what I have learned? The thrilling news? I promise to tell no one that the man whose vision I shall be striving to realize; the man I shall sing for; the man whom I am hoping soon to meet and work with each day and each night—that this man has in his veins the blood of the greatest composer since Beethoven and Wagner. You see how clever I am? From just your few clues I have deduced that the infant of Iglau was not only the master’s own little boy—but also Mister Leib Goldkorn’s very own grandfather. The secret? You are the great-grandson of Gustav Mahler!
But hush. Hush. Not a word.
With my respect, my admiration,
and warmest good wishes,
Renée Fleming
LEIB GOLDKORN
LA CASA BLANCA
ISLE DE MANHATTAN
December 9th, 2005
MR. JOSEPH VOLPE
GESCHÄFTSFÜHRER
THE METROPOLITAN OPERA,
LINCOLN CENTER
NEW YORK, N.Y. 10023
Caro Giuseppe,
Cancel appointment A. Netrebko. Stop. Retain Fleming role of Emma. Stop. We must forgive petty misunderstandings. Stop. Send signed photo Netrebko nevertheless.
Ciao à tutti,
Leib Goldkorn, Regisseur
