Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 236 Tour
In late February 1880, even before the weather warmed up, the entire nation of France was filled with unprecedented enthusiasm for a play.

After "The Chorus" was performed and caused a sensation at the Comédie-Française, the craze did not subside over time, but rather spread beyond the borders of Paris to the vast lands of France.

Invitations bearing the emblems of theaters from various regions and filled with sincere words flew to the desk of Émile Perrin, director of the Comédie-Française.

Lyon, Marseille, Bordeaux, Toulouse... these cultural hubs outside of Paris are all eager to have "The Choir" appear on their stages as soon as possible.

Dean Perrin astutely seized this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and launched the national tour of the "Choir".

The tour started even earlier than the Paris Opera, causing quite a stir in the Parisian arts scene.

The departure day arrived, and the Saint-Lazare train station in Paris was bustling with people and extremely noisy.

Unlike usual, when passengers are always in a hurry, the platform today has a festive atmosphere.

A huge steam locomotive puffed out white steam; on one of the carriages, the words "Comédie-Française" stood out prominently in the sunlight.

The nearly 100-person touring team, including actors, musicians, stage managers, costume designers, and prop masters, were in high spirits and beamed with pride.

The special luggage cart is fully loaded with carefully packed sets, costumes and props, which will soon take the joys and sorrows of "Pond Bottom Orphanage" to a distant place.

On the platform, the number of people who came to see him off far exceeded expectations.

Besides the actors' relatives and friends, colleagues from the comedy theater, and many citizens and theater lovers who came after hearing the news.

Reporters set up their cameras, their flashes going off intermittently, capturing this historic moment.

"Look! It's Mr. Mune-Sulli!" someone exclaimed.

Jean Mounet-Sulli, who plays Clement Mathieu, caused a small commotion as soon as he appeared.

François Gautier-Luzarche, who plays "Dean Razzie," is talking quietly with theater critics who have come to see him off.

Young rising star Leopold Barre was surrounded by a group of female admirers and received a large bouquet of flowers, his cheeks flushed with excitement.

Dean Emil Perrin stood in the center of the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with the celebrities and officials who came to say goodbye.

After a brief farewell, the train whistle blew a long blast, announcing the imminent departure. The actors boarded the carriages one by one, embarking on their tour.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The first stop of the tour is Lyon, known as the "second capital of France".

After nearly a week of rehearsals and intensive stage preparations, the day for the performance of "The Choir" at the Lyon Grand Theatre finally arrived.

Even before the tour team arrived, two months of promotional hype had already raised the expectations of Lyon audiences to their peak.

The Lyon Progress newspaper serialized for several days the effusive praise from Parisian and local theater critics after watching the show.
Those wealthy businessmen and celebrities who made a special trip to Paris during the Christmas holidays to "get a sneak peek" became "unofficial promoters" of "The Choir".

In salons, clubs, and cafes, they tirelessly described the emotions and awe they felt that night in Richelieu Hall.

The scene of everyone shedding tears, confetti flying, and a thousand people singing together has been told time and again, almost taking on a legendary quality.

This made tickets for "The Choir" extremely difficult to obtain in Lyon.

Three weeks before the performance, all seats were sold out; the price on the black market was inflated tenfold, yet people still flocked to see it.

On the night of the performance, the area in front of the Lyon Grand Theatre was bustling with traffic and noise, as if the entire upper class of Lyon had gathered there.

Beneath the grand spectacle lay astonishing crowds.

Half an hour before the performance was scheduled to begin, the theater manager had to open all the corridors and spare spaces.

Soon, even the corridors were full of people, and those who came later could only squeeze into the passageway at the entrance.

They stood on tiptoe, craning their necks, hoping to hear even a whisper of singing or lyrics coming from inside the venue.

Ticket inspectors and staff, sweating profusely, maintained order, repeatedly shouting, "Please move in! Please make way! Be careful!" But no one was willing to step back. Such a frenzied scene has only been witnessed by a handful of plays in the history of the Lyon Grand Theatre.

Inside the theater, the magnificent auditorium was also packed, with every audience member's face showing eagerness.

The whispers and murmurs merged into a huge buzzing sound, which only subsided when the lights slowly dimmed.

The deep red velvet curtain slowly opened under the watchful eyes of countless people.

From the moment the somber and solemn setting of the "Pond Bottom Reformatory" appears in the first act, accompanied by low and slightly mournful music, the entire audience is instantly drawn into that specific context.

The moment "Dean Lazi" appeared on stage, it immediately elicited suppressed gasps and whispers from the audience.

When "Clement Matthew" appeared, a glimmer of hope seemed to begin to pierce through the oppressive clouds.

His efforts to connect with children through music, and his clash with Dean Lazi's ideas, captivated the audience.

When the children sang "Night" in their tender and sincere voices under that solitary lamp, Debussy's pure, beautiful, and soul-stirring melody resounded for the first time in the Lyon theater.

"Oh, night has just fallen upon the earth, your wondrous, hidden, tranquil magic..."

The heavenly children's choir seemed to possess a magical power to cleanse the soul.

The soft light shone on the children's focused and radiant faces, a scene so beautiful it was heartbreaking, yet filled with boundless hope.

The subsequent plot unfolded amidst laughter and tears.

Mr. Mathieu's humorous teaching style and the children's adorable clumsiness elicited bursts of heartfelt and warm laughter.

Dean Lazi's obstruction, hypocrisy, and arbitrariness infuriated the audience.

The climax came when the Countess watched the performance.

When Pierre emerged from the shadows and began to sing that clear, passionate, and emotional solo, the entire Lyon Grand Theatre erupted in cheers!

The applause erupted like thunder, almost lifting the dome off the theater!

Finally, as countless paper flowers drifted down from the "high window," the children sang farewell songs...

The complex emotions of sadness, warmth, and hope intertwined reached their peak.

The curtain slowly fell, and silence descended.

It was as if all the viewers were still deeply immersed in that huge emotional impact and unable to extricate themselves.

immediately--

"Bravo!!!"

The same cheers as in Paris, the earth-shattering applause, shouts, and stomping erupted suddenly like a tsunami!
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The premiere in Lyon was a great success, achieving a sensation that even surpassed the Paris premiere.

For the next two weeks, the Choir's performances in Lyon were sold out, with tickets remaining in high demand throughout the entire performance period.

Lyon's newspapers used every conceivable word of praise: "A masterpiece of the century," "An ocean of tears," "A baptism of the soul," "The most unforgettable night in Lyon's theatrical history"...

As the tour progressed, the name "Lional Sorel" spread throughout Lyon at an unprecedented speed and with unprecedented reach.

When newspapers report on the tour's success, they invariably place Lionel Sorel, the "genius playwright" and "author of 'The Choir,'" in a prominent position.

As Lionel's fame began to spread throughout France, the course of many events and the attitudes of many people began to subtly change...

(I'm feeling a little better today, I'll start catching up on updates tomorrow)
(End of this chapter)