Quixote - Libretto by Amy Beth Kirsten

A m y

B e t h

K i r s t e n

QUIXOTE

LIBRETTO

QUIXOTE for soprano, mezzo-soprano, contralto, vocalizing percussion quartet, and male speaking voice

Libretto by Amy Beth Kirsten

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; inspired by Don Quixote

by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra â&#x20AC;&#x201C;

The libretto is comprised of original text by Amy Beth Kirsten as well the following fragments of medieval, renaissance, and contemporary poetry in order of appearance: 1. “Why did you not allow me to save you?...Why did you afflict me and leave me sad and alone in this vale of tears?” (from The Celestina, Anonymous 15th century novel in dialogue, translated by Lesley Byrd Simpson, ©1955. Used and reprinted with permission of University of California Press.) 2. “…each lip waiting to be gathered…” (from “Sonnet CLXVI” by Luis de Góngora, 17th century, excerpted from The Golden Age: Poems of the Spanish Renaissance, ©2006. Used and reprinted with permission of Edith Grossman, translator.) 3. “…I am not one of those beasts gone wild…” (from “Chastity” by Ibn Faraj, 10th century, excerpted from Poems of Arab Andalusia, ©1989 Cola Franzen, translator. Used and reprinted with permission from City Light Books.) 4. “…[by] the road behind the…picket fence of his teeth…” (from Quixotic by Walter Bargen, ©2014. Used and reprinted with permission of Mr. Bargen.) 5. All of the proverbs that appear in “friend Sancho” are from Sancho Panza's proverbs, and others which occur in Don Quixote; with a literal English translation, notes, and an introduction by Ulick Ralph Burke, published in London in 1892. These are in the public domain. 6. “Man run[ning]/s towards the grave…nothing is further than the day gone by…nothing is nearer than the day to come…” (from “Man Runs Towards the Grave” by Samuel HaNagid, 10th century, excerpted from The Jewish Poets of Spain, Penguin Books, 1971. Permission pending.) 7. “…my eye frees what the page imprisons…” (from “Reading” by Ibn ‘Ammār, 11th century, excerpted from Poems of Arab Andalusia, ©1989 Cola Franzen, translator. Used and reprinted with permission from City Light Books.) 8. “…not thinking of traps, of danger…run as fast as [they] can, without pause; when they see the deception and want to change [their] course, it is too late…” (from “Verses Written on the Death of His Father” by Jorge Manrique, 15th century, excerpted from The Golden Age: Poems of the Spanish Renaissance, ©2006. Used and reprinted with permission of Edith Grossman, translator.) 9. “…plays the tambourine and its sweet sound pierces the empty air…our minds made mad by his gentle gestures…those are pearls pouring from his hands…those are flowers flowing from his mouth…his fame reaches up to highest heaven…” (from “The Novel of the Little Gypsy Girl” by Cervantes, 17th century, excerpted from Exemplary Novels, ©2017. Used and reprinted with permission of Edith Grossman, translator.)

3 TABLE OF CONTENTS:

SETTING:!

DURATION:!

INSTRUMENTATION:!

SYNOPSIS!

PROLOGUE:!

PART ONE:!

PART TWO:!

11!

PART THREE:!

14!

PART FOUR:!

16!

EPILOGUE:!

20!

Characters: (in order of appearance) Bookface – the emcee Alonso Quixano – an old, sickly landowner; believes himself a famous knight Quixote – Alonso’s alter ego, the well-read Knight of La Mancha Dulcinea – Quixote’s ideal, imaginary love, worshipped from afar Andrés – a young shepherd boy, victimized and accused by his boss Villagers – Alonso’s family, friends, and neighbors Rocinante – Quixote’s trusted steed Sancho – Quixote’s proverb-loving, ever-eating, loyal squire The Giant – an imagined foe Death-Knight – Quixote’s nemesis Death-Knight’s Court

Setting: The theatre of Alonso Quixano’s mind as he lay on his deathbed

Duration: Approximately 90 minutes

Instrumentation: Male voice (also plays objects) Soprano (doubles on small percussion and melodica) Mezzo-soprano (doubles on small percussion) Contralto (doubles on small percussion) 4 percussionists (all vocalize)

SYNOPSIS

– Prologue –

Part One: In which the ingenious gentleman Alonso Quixano, on his deathbed, is haunted by the following memories: being infected with books and becoming the gallant knight Don Quixote, constructing his ladylove, saving a young shepherd boy, and being accosted by villagers.

Part Two: Which relates memories of a medical exam, a narrow escape upon his trusty steed, his good friend Sancho, and a battle with a heartless giant.

Part Three: Regarding a notable head wound hallucination, the unfortunate return of the young shepherd boy, and of the villagers who put this most noble Don Quixote in a cage.

Part Four: In which the valiant Knight of La Mancha is visited by Death, is danced into humiliation, and battles for his life.

– Epilogue –

6 LIBRETTO

PROLOGUE:

[enter Bookface, addressing the audience; his voice is otherworldly, his language is unknown to us, therefore a translation is projected]

Why did you not allow me to save you? Why did you afflict me and leave me sad and alone in this vale of tears? [exit]

PART ONE:

[an abundance of books falls from the sky making a cacophonous thud…as the dust settles we hear voices trapped in the books…] •

a storied birth: [bursts of unintelligible texts from various books of chivalry infect Alonso as he lay dying; as a result he becomes a famous knight like those he’s been reading about]

•

construction of love: [Quixote constructs his ideal ladylove] Come come my lady, come… [Dulcinea, the image of a rough, dilapidated, misshapen tangle of leaves and flower bud, attempts to bloom, but fails] gggggrrrrraccccce grace ggggrrraaaaccceggggggrrrrrggggg [Quixote responds, deaf and blind to how horrible she sounds] oh! [Dulcinea tries again…but fails…] gggggrrrrraccccce ggggrrraaaaccceggggggrrrrrggggg [Quixote responds, enamored despite the sonic ugliness] ai oh! [Dulcinea tries again…but fails…] gggggrrrrraccccce grace ggggrrraaaaccceggggggrrrrrggggg [Quixote responds, totally beguiled] ai ee oh such purity!

8 [Dulcinea tries again…blooms into a misshapen, lopsided monstrosity… and then collapses…] gggggrrrrraccccce ggggrrraaaaccceggggggrrrrrggggg [Quixote responds, completely enchanted] ai ee oh love! ai ee oh beauty! ai oh sweet song! [Dulcinea tries again… briefly blooms into a beautiful flower…] all graces in one each lip waiting to be gathered eyes no stars outshine each breath bated waiting breasts something div-(ine) […but is abruptly interrupted by a young shepherd boy, Andrés, in chains] •

the innocent: [Andrés attempts to soothe his boss’s illogical rage; the boss is a projected shadow] I only sing now, your grace, to offer you some peace a diversion to lessen your rage and to dull the sting of my chains no heart is hard enough to hear my song and not give a little I am not a thief I am not one of those beasts gone wild You say you have reason to whip me beat me But you mistake me for a beast gone wild I am no thief I keep singing now, Juan Haldudo el Rico, because your face wears the promise of lashes to come five months’ devotion to your herd, your grace is your heart too hard to hear me? I am not a thief

9 you mistake me for a beast gone wild I am no thief [the brave and noble Quixote, moved by Andrés’ song, steps in to save him] (Andrés) what is this hush, this divine light? who comes with sword in weathered hand? a noble knight – a metal angel unlocks my chains and to Juan Haldudo makes this vow: “if any harm comes to this young boy, you wayward knight, on God’s swift wings I’ll find you – even if you hide in the belly of a whale!” oh you reeling world just when I thought I was alone… some grace keep riding my savior, righter of wrongs, keep riding [With his lance, Quixote mistakenly charges what he thinks is an approaching enemy - it is really a towering pile of objects; after quite a racket, he falls flat on his face, wounded]

•

cobwebs rust: (The villagers, impatient with his fantasies and concerned for his wellbeing, step in to bring Quixote back to bed) listen old man since you lack a mirror it’s time for me to let you know time has warped your face your eyes seek mercy deep inside two ancient caves so deep you look like the father of eternity listen old man if I saw you naked my soul would be astounded flesh stockings stretched on bone gnarled fingers knees

10 eagle nostrils drip a heavy-hearted mustache cheeks so gaunt and gloom they kiss inside your mouth cobwebs rust dust to dust off your faculties give up the ghost at the feast about face your moldy armor from a lifetime ago and barber’s crackpot bowl – come home! listen old man the farther out you wander tree-bough lance in rusty hand the more you look the fool standing by the road behind the picket fence of your teeth listen old man since you lack the muscle it’s insanity to go in search of battles with the western wind now a gallant poet and then in hopeless pain raging with a caged brain lost to a delusion (lost to your) (repeat) cobwebs rust dust to dust… [Unable to fight the machine-like energy of the crowd, Quixote returns to bed]

PART TWO: •

medical exam: [With Alonso/Quixote safely in bed, the villagers examine him to try and determine the cause of his madness] check eyes nose throat head quick check reflex heart-rate blood count bed check tongue skin toes joints breath stool sight chest gut teeth bed check pummel prick needle spin stick stack load trim check eyes nose throat watch the barber cut him sew him get the leeches save his reason see the priest wash his feet and pray the leeches save him barber cut him priest wash his feet and and and and pray give him soup a bath some cooling herbs chain his leg cook some ram, mutton, chicken, giblets, boiled, roasted stewed lamb thigh turtledove minced hen pie something cool like lettuce tell a joke a distraction snap him back to joy and gladness save his mind with happy stories chain his leg to something barber cut him priest wash his feet and and and and pray listen old man does he see devils? or dead monks? does he know what’s good bad true false? it could be demons or God’s wrath, punishment for sin/from God don’t forget the leeches and something cool like lettuce check eyes nose throat head quick check reflex heart-rate blood count bed check tongue skin toes joints breath stool sight chest gut teeth bed check pummel prick needle spin stick stack load trim check eyes nose throat no

12 more sleepless restless rambling so far from home agitated spirit you’re safe right here in bed no running aimlessly from help is here now no more raging give him something happy lock the door throw away the key something happy let us give him something happy let us check.

•

escape: [Bookface returns with some friends to help Quixote escape from bed] does he see? does he? does he see devils? does he?

•

riding Rocinante: [Bookface leads Quixote to Rocinante his trusty steed; Quixote rides off to his next adventure. No text – Quixote rides/plays a DIY horse made of objects]

•

friend Sancho: [The stage is overrun with a myriad Sanchos who use an abundance of proverbs to try and reason with Quixote who believes the sheep in the distance to be advancing armies] (yawn) those are sheep, your grace, (grunt) not armies… He is blind indeed who cannot see through a sieve… When the broom sprouts, the ass is born to eat it… Those who seek adventures do not always find happy ones… When the head aches, all the members suffer… Let us not throw the rope after the bucket…He whose father is judge goes safe to trial…Between friends sharp eyes…Love levels all things…He who leans against a good tree finds good shelter…It is other people’s burdens that kill the ass…A mouth without teeth is like a mill without stones… You often find a good drinker under a bad cloak… Many littles make a Much… The best (burp) sauce in the (mouth sound) world is hunger… Honey is not (teeth chatter) for the ass’s mouth… Between the hand and the (cough) mouth the soup is lost… The best (chewing) sauce in the world (yawn) is hunger… To the (burp) grave with the (mouth sound) dead and the living to the bread… The best sauce (snort) in the world is hunger…

13 Since we have loaves, (cough) let us not seek for tarts… All sorrows (chewing) are bearable when there is (yawn) bread… It is the (swallowing) stomach that carries the feet… You cannot (sigh) catch trout (food-mouth giggle) with dry breeches… The best sauce in the world is hunger… (chewing) There is a great distance between said and done…All will come out in the washing…The devil lurks behind the cross…He gives twice, who gives quickly… Every one is as God made him, and very often worse…We are all equals when we are asleep…Make a bridge of silver for a flying enemy…Do not look for three feet on a cat… Letters without virtue are pearls on a dung-hill… Make yourself into honey and the flies will devour you…All is not gold that glitters… Truth stretches but does not break…No one but myself can know where my shoe pinches… [Giant footsteps interrupt the Sanchos’ song, Alonso/Quixote is ready for a battle]

•

the giant: [Alonso battles the giant] die hero die man running hero toward die the grave nothing hero is further die than the day gone by hero die hero man running die hero toward die the grave nothing hero is nearer die than the day hero to come hero die hero die hero die at the hands of what you must love [As the set changes Alonso and the Giant keep battling]

PART THREE: [The Giant’s footsteps continue, Quixote is terribly wounded. We hear the Giant’s final crushing footstep, multiple Sanchos and Quixotes collapse like paper] •

head wound hallucination: [The wounded Quixote hallucinates that he is a miniature knight made out of small percussion objects and that Dulcinea is a tiny singing daisy that slowly grows into a menacing, ten-story flower fiercely averse to the conventions of courtly love]

I am wounded I (gasp) am (groan) woun (grunt) ded (sigh) (groan) I (gasp) am (groan) woun (grunt) ded (sigh)

tiny knight I am wounded, wounded here among the violets In this prison, prison here among the violets How your beauty, beauty here among the violets Sets me singing, singing here among the violets Oh beauty, won’t you save me from this pain? Won’t you sing to me? (Flower): Of course, your grace

flower song

[The tiny flower “sings” to Quixote…] your eyes trace me like the letters in a line of poetry, but a poem doesn’t seek your love […and begins to grow and overtake the stage…] your heart loves me like a lily loves the rain but the cloud isn’t bound to your soil your lips seek me like a captive craves an apple but the fruit has no duty to your hunger

15 I was born free invisible as the light was I not I of the moon and stars and sun I am not Love me if you must you must then die you must die hero die at the hands of what you must love [Alonso gasps and sits up abruptly, waking from the hallucination. As he comes to we hear the sound of crickets and a crackling fire…He sees Andrés and feels relief for a familiar face…] •

the innocent returns: […but the young Andrés is horrified by this chance encounter with the old “knight” who abandoned him and lashes out, recounting his torture; the text he sings sounds as abused as he was] away… you rode away… Juan Haldudo heaved with rage… you rode away…then… my spine he… slashed… face to gnarled slimy back… noxious mouth… his… suddenly biting choking dragging… I… slowly shrieking body… my eyes bloodblind… appendix bending… split rib… suddenly… slowly… him laughing… astounded I… jewels… of red…red…red…: …away… you rode…rode…away… my spine he… slashed… face to gnarled slimy back… noxious mouth… his… suddenly biting choking dragging… I… slowly shrieking body… my eyes bloodblind… appendix bending… index split rib… warm red… pools spat choking in my crying… breath… I lay broke… broken… no seré más hombre en toda mi vida… him laughing with all my heart… I called for you… and now like… a joke… now you… suddenly you say… you… will slowly punish him… no… don’t… erroneous “knight” and if by… chance… we ever meet again and… if by chance I am in trouble… keep… riding… keep riding… just… keep riding… and pretend there is nothing to see

•

cobwebs and cage: [The villagers interrupt; they have come to put Alonso in a cage and take him home for good / deconstructed / brutalized, vocal text sounds, like a machine]

PART FOUR: •

Death-Knight procession: [Quixote is in a cage; Alonso watches as the Death-Knight approaches with her court] Death-Knight: …end of story… my eye frees what the page imprisons: black lines seen but not known forgotten why do black lines always wear black? because they are in mourning for their lives …end of story… lines, like bars little prisoners each one by one escape as quickly as a dream not thinking of traps, of danger, always wearing black they run as fast as they can without pause but when they see the deception and want to change their course it is too late …end of story… and because it is too late we dance we dance we dance the end

•

death-knight dance: [Death and her court sing and dance Alonso into humiliation; tempo slowly accelerates, music accumulates…]

Court:

Quixote:

When our most noble knight plays [on] the tambourine and its sweet sound pierces the empty air we dance; our minds made mad by his gentle gestures and those are pearls pouring from his hands

When our most noble knight plays the tambourine and its sweet sound pierces the empty air we dance; our minds made mad by his gentle gestures and those are flowers flowing from his mouth

our minds made mad by his gentle gestures and those are pearls flowing from his hands those are flowers flowing from his mouth, his fame reaches up to highest heaven, Quixote!

I know who I am not a madman I am I am not wounded I know who I am not who?

I am I know who I am what? Not a madman I am I am I am I am not nothing to see no one there when?

[Gradually Death and her court stealthily leave the stage leaving Alonso spinning alone. Only he and Quixote are left to face each other in battle.] â&#x20AC;˘

epic battle: Quixote:

voices offstage:

Alonso:

(Breath hocket)

I am I know who I am

(slams book to cut him off) Quixote! (whispered)

WHAT? (hocket) not a madman I [i]

18 (hocket) not a madman I [i] [o] I am I am not am not free I [i] [o] I [i] [o] I was born free

[o] I am I am not am not free I [i] [o] I [i] [o] I was born free (slams book to stop the music) WHO? Quixote! (scraped)

I am I am not nothing to see no a diversion fight to lesson fight your rage fight fight fight fight (hocket) fight fight and and and and fight this contagion fight fight fool fight this contagion fight fight fight fool fight fight this contagion

(hocket) fight fight and and and and fight this contagion fight fight fool fight this contagion fight fight fight fool fight fight this contagion (slams book to stop the music)

(recognizing the sound and realizing he is being unmade) thief, thief, thief! I was born free I am not wounded I am not in trouble I want to live keep forever riding live keep forever riding not not not a madman I know who I am I am know I am not insanity to dust to fate not my fate he was a fine keep knight live and forever riding wise live keep forever was a fine keep riding a knight forever fine knight a fine knight a fine knight the finest knight

Quixote! (scraped) (scrape sounds become drills, sparse at first)

19 the finest the the the the (hocket) The the The the The no End. no The no End. no The no End. no The no End. no The no End. no The no End. no The no

(drills more active)

(hocket) The the The the The no End. no The no End. no The no End. no The no End. no The no End. no The no End. no The no (slams book to stop the music – with this final slam, Quixote disappears via a trick of light) …end of story…(whispered / coughed)

(sound of fire crackling) •

a storied death: [The villagers reflect upon what they have lost…] as quickly as a dream old man let the mirror devour you in a secret room with books behind the walls once upon a time there was a library there where the devil lurked before we tore it down but it was a wound too late for grace his grave with paper and ink

20 where does he go now that everyone’s the same (everyone’s asleep)? to the darkest cobwebbed corners one should think unmake the picket fence of his teeth dust and rust on his feet unsay the time warped histories unremember unhappen the ancient caves behind his face it, it was a wound too late for grace his grave with paper and ink he was nothing at al(l)-ways and never everything he tried to change things settled in our bones his lance was just a branch, his helmet just a bowl and now on the last page we polish the gold pieces he left for us today and think who will be our clown now? (knee-deep in deception smiling behind us) [Lights fade to black on Alonso; Bookface enters far upstage. One by one more Bookfaces join him.]

EPILOGUE: [The sound of the voices is otherworldly – the language is unknown to us, a translation is projected] Why did you not allow me to save you? allow me to save you allow me to save you save you allow me save you me you you you you you you me you… [Fade to black]

T H E

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