We recently posted a link to a short video profile of Central City and the opera house on Denver’s CBS-4. To kick things off, Emmy-award winning journalist and television anchor Jim Benemann introduces Colorado Getaways producer Doug Whitehead and he quickly dives into the rich history of Central City and the opera house.

Like many opera patrons, I’ve been going to performances in Central City for quite some time now. Well, I was really taken back with all the wonderful background information provided in this short video production.  My hat goes off to the folks that created it.

Select the image above or HERE to see the Colorado Getaways video.

At first, I thought it would be interesting to discuss several talking points from the video, then an underlying theme emerged and the marriage metaphor seemed apropos. From the day (1878) Welsh and Cornish miners cut the rock to erect the structure, to the day (1931) the daughter of then Colorado governor John Evans saved the building by selling seats, community and patron support has played a major role in the opera house’s longevity.

This mining town and this opera house have been married for generations and it may just be time to reaffirm their vows: I, Central City, take you Opera House, to be my partner, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward.

There are so many little tidbits in this piece to enhance your next journey to Central City. From the boomtown beginnings, the great depression, and finally to today, I know my next visit will be slightly more enchanting. Whether you are a long time subscriber or a newbie, this video is chocked full of intriguing information on the opera house. Thank you for doing this CBS-4 Denver!

You can now relive Central City Opera’s history with the commemorative book, Theatre of Dreams: The Glorious Central City Opera - Celebrating 75 Years. This 200-page limited edition hardcover coffee table book includes never before seen photos and in-depth stories of the people, places and things that make Central City Opera a gem in the Colorado Rockies.

Behind Theatre of Dreams:

 Theatre of Dreams

Researching, assembling, writing and producing this 75th Anniversary book was not only a challenge, but a labor of love. Central City Opera General/Artistic Director Pelham G. Pearce recounts the “behind the scenes” story that resulted in this wonderful work.

A limited number of copies are still available so puchase your copy today!

Approximately twenty years ago I attended my first opera at the historic Central City Opera House. I dressed up for the occasion and while en route was feeling very gratified in my new interest in opera. During intermission I made a trip to the ladies’ room. Upon my return, a number of other opera patrons kept glancing my way, and this scrutiny continued throughout the next act until the opera was over. Once the house lights came back on, I was horrified to realize that a piece of chewing gum had attached itself not only to the bottom of my shoe, but also to an embarrassing foot-long trail of stray toilet paper! Over the subsequent years this mishap has provided me and my friends with loads of chuckles when I recount my first opera experience.

At the risk of sounding like a movie title, ‘the summers of 1964 & 1966’ remain a fond remembrance for me. I worked at the Teller House both summers, first as a member of housekeeping and the latter as a hotel tour guide. The people I met, the work itself, the city and the Teller House and Opera House will remain forever in my memory. I can recall the young ladies being presented to society by coming down the stairs between the Teller and Opera Houses. I can still see the ushers ringing the bell for the presentation of a performance in the Opera House. I can remember my “pitch” when I sold tours in the middle of the street for $.25. Central City was and is, quite a place.

Or the inside of the Opera House, I think I remember most vividly the straight black chairs and the limited comfort they provided, still; I cannot recollect a bad seat for viewing the stage. The knowledge that so many great performers had appeared on that stage, kept me enthralled with whatever I saw being performed. As another reward for being a staff member of the Teller House, I was able to socialize with the crew and cast members of the operas and the plays presented at the Opera House.

In 1964 I had tea with Myrna Loy and a libation with Richard Benjamin, two of the stars of “Barefoot in the Park”. I attended not only the performance of the play but also Madame Butterfly and the listed world premier of The Lady from Colorado, quite an highlight to a summer of working between college semesters. I was able to work on various press receptions and other functions before the play and opera performances –at the livery stables across from the Teller House –allowed me to meet so many wonderful people involved with the Opera Association.

-In 1966, Mr. George Gobel and Mr. Phil Harris performed in “The Odd Couple” doing a simply marvelous job, a delight to watch. One day, Mr. Gobel was, shall we say chased, by fans into the Teller House. I told him to go into the dining room on the second floor while I redirected the fans to another direction. Some days later, Mr. Gobel filmed a milk commercial in the lobby of the Teller House and he persuaded the film crew to pay me to keep fans and tourist out of the hotel while filming proceeded. With the exception of when the camera was rolling, Mr. Gobel preferred another beverage than milt to consume, and I found the means to supply that refreshment. When the play finished its run and the artists departed, Mr. Gobel left me a signed photo wishing me happy landings in the future since I was on orders to the US Army and flight school of October of 1996.

Summers of 1964 and 1966 left a lasting impression on me. I have continued to enjoy traveling to Central City. It was and is a special place.

Here are a few memories from Ed Austin: 1951-1954, during which time I sang 4 seasons in the opera chorus; square danced in Williams Stable 3 seasons; and drove jeep tours in surrounding mining area for a Denver Mortician who owned the Jeep Tour business. During this time I was a student in the Business School at the University of Colorado at Boulder.

At this time, the chorus was made up of college students from area colleges who won their places through auditions with Florence Lamont Hinman at the U of Denver. I had studied voice since High School days in Ft. Collins and further with Warner Imig, Dean of the CU music school. And had the good fortune to be a 6’5” tenor!

My first season I rented a room in a house behind St. James Church. There after I lived in a house on the Cassey with other chorus members- the gals on the main floor and the men on the lower level. Some of the amenities included an outhouse and a hot water tank heated by a wood stove. One small tank of water had to serve all! So pity the person who did not follow the rule of “water on to wet”, ‘off to soap’, and ‘on to rinse!’

On Sundays a number of us from the chorus volunteered and formed a choir for the St. James church service was before the church was reconditioned and brought up to its current, original glory!

The best breakfast in CC was one of “Mert’s” Cinnamon rolls in the “Olde Fashioned” coffee shop across from the Teller House. It filled a plate with its delicious goodness- and it often filled my stomach, too! Later Mert would marry Howard Knoll, a local CC stalwart citizen. In 1954 Howard’s daughter Gerry was a senior in High School and worked the soda fountain in CC’s drug store. Gerry and I became summer friends, though Howard thought I was much too old for Gerry- and he did his best to keep us apart (unsuccessfully)! While Gerry (Sheldon) who no lives in Denver, and I each went our own family ways, still, 50+years later, we are still friends!

In 1951 Eleanor Steber starred in “Amelia Goes to the Ball.” The story was told that she did not even see the score until she boarded her plane for Colorado. But the consummate artists that she was, as she sang one line, prompters in the box and in the stage wings fed her the line to follow. I don’t recall her ever missing a beat! Perhaps the split of champagne delivered to her dressing room before every performance helped! I especially wanted to include a Louise Pote picture of Ms. Steber, but it’s missing from my files. In my scrapbook I noted that the seat prices in 1952 ranged from $3.55 in the balcony to $7.50, downstairs, on opening night.

It was necessary in the summers for me to make money to help pay for my university expenses. Sadly, no one job in Central City paid very much! As a “union” chorus member I believe I was paid $50 a week! But once the performance season was underway, as a chorister, I had much free time. Therefore I added 2 additional jobs!

The Williams stable was then used as a venue for square dance exhibitions presented both before and after all productions in the opera house. Dr. Lloyd Shaw and his Cheyenne Mountain Dancers was the first group to perform during the earliest days of the Association. Later, the Dudes and Dames square dance club from the U of Denver provided the dancers. Their last year was 1951. That year I befriended the dancers since I was also an active square dancer at CU. When there was a sickness or absence among the men, I filled in for them. A sliver dollar was inlaid into the center of the dance floor to help the dancers remain centered.

Then in 1952 the Association decided to take over the Square Dance Activity themselves- and they held tryouts in Denver. The 4 women were chosen, among other attributes, by the color of their hair! The Association person in charge wanted a gal of each hair color! Since no redhead applied, the caller’s daughter dyed her hair for the summer and became our token “redhead”! This job was a natural for me, since I was already in the chorus. I was accepted, and now had a very busy performance day! After the pre-performance exhibition in Williams Stable, I had to rush to the Opera House to get into costume and makeup for my own stage appearance with the chorus.

Usually I had to forego the closing, on-stage curtain call, because I had to clean off my makeup and change into my square dance clothes. As soon as the Opera House doors opened and the patrons started streaming out, we dancers, positioned in the street in from of St. James, would start whooping it up as we ran down the street and into the stable. A photo of this action, with me in the lead couple is attached to this email. The fiddler and piano player would be at the ready, as was the caller, Ray Smith, an outstanding caller from Dallas, TX. Opera patrons would fill all the bleachers on 3 sides of the dance floor and we would give an exhibition of the tradition of the traditional dances of the mining days-with a few modern additions!

On days when there was no matinee, and on Monday’s when there was no performance, I assumed my role as a Jeep Tour Driver. Because we worked strictly on commission, we did our own promotion to assure a full load! I would go down the street enticing folks to come see the interesting sights that lay beyond the confines of Central City. When we had a Jeep load, off we would go up to the Glory Hole and the surrounding area.

One season, probably 1953 or 1954 the owner of the Jeep Tours decided to take the opera starts on an outing to the top of James Peak. My offer to drive one of the Jeeps was turned down because he had enough drivers, but since there was extra space (riding over a rear wheel well!), I was welcome to come. We took the back road through Apex toward Rollinsville- then cut off toward James Peak. At one spot on the mountain’s slope it because so steep that the passengers were asked to walk. With one of us drivers sitting on each of the front fenders to hold the front of the Jeep down, we inched our way over this very steep section.

Then the passengers again boarded while we drivers walked back to get the next Jeep. Suddenly there was a scream! The first Jeep, loaded with Opera Stars, was starting to roll backward down the mountain! All of us rushed to the Jeep, and with the sheer strength of numbers were able to stop it! The not so experienced driver had only left the Jeep in gear-and had failed to put on the brake. It had slipped out of gear. My, what anxiety! Needless to say, a pall settled over the event, and we immediately turned around and returned to Central City. The errant driver became a passenger, and I was asked to drive back.

When the performance season was over, and the many students employed by the Association returned to college, the fall still enticed visitors to Central City! Since most of the college students in the usher corps attended Ivy League schools, and were not available in the fall weekends, tour of the world famous Central City Opera House beginning in just 10 minutes”. I often had 50 to 100 tourists in tow when I unlocked the door and led them into the lobby. There I collected the fee before taking them into the House- ½ of which was my pay! Probably only about 50 cents! For this student, it was a worthwhile trip up from Boulder!

I continue as an avid supporter of the CCOHA. A bit of my heart remains in Central City! Because I still have family in Colorado, I return each summer from my home in Rochester, NY. Depending on my Colorado schedule, I see at least one opera; through I have seen all 3 in 2 days! This summer, on July 2nd, I’m looking forward to seeing the “Ballad of Baby Doe.” I missed it the first time around, but not now!

I continue a family tradition. My parents attended Central City productions prior to WWII, when the only road into town was the Virginia Canyon Rd, and on the sidewalks were slot machines! Even in the 50’s the spirit of the mining days was still in evidence it! Even a bit admit that I miss what once was – but I thank God I was able to experience it! Even a bit of the past is still present! I note that in your Central City ticket office you still sell the Louise Pote photograph of the Lace House in Black Hawk as a post card. On the porch are 2 couples of the Central City Square dancers- I am the dancer in black, part of the couple on the left side! Thanks for letting me share some of my Central City memories.

For many of us, Central City summers were a positively memorable experience. This was certainly true for those who were connected with the dramatic productions in the historic opera house. And that included the daily performances of the singing ushers, the young men in black who prepared the patrons for the opera with a robust rendition of their welcoming song from the steps next to Williams Stables and then marched and sang their way up Eureka Street to open the opera house, take tickets and lead the crowd to their seats for the main event.

We are those singing ushers, and we are looking forward to the CCOHA 75th Anniversary celebration in 2007, but some of us from the ushers’ crew of 1959 cannot wait two years and are planning a preliminary reunion this summer (July 29-31). We remember 1959 as a significant year because it was not only Central City’s golden centennial year (100 years after the discovery of gold in Gregory Gulch), but it was also the year that the ushers defeated the local volunteer fire department in the opening day hose-cart race. The Ballad of Baby Doe was also revived at the opera house, three years after its world premiere on the same stage.

The Great Hose-Cart Race
Opening Day, June 27, 1959, was significant because Central City was celebrating its golden centennial (100 years after the discovery of gold in Gregory Gulch). It was also the year that, for the first time, the Central City Opera Houses Ushers be in good shape if we were going to compete with the more confident and experienced city volunteers. For a week before the main event, we dragged ourselves out of bed at the crack of dawn for a series of trials runs which separated the “horses” from the also-rans.

Opening Day was filled with colorful festivities: square dancing, an old-car parade, a rock-drilling contest, and a pony express race from Idaho Springs. At 3:15, the crowd lined both sides of Main Street in collective anticipation as the hose-cart competition was announced. The ushers went first and got off to a quick start at the top of Main and sped down the hill, the “horses” running vigorously in front of the cart’s great iron wheels that rolled relentlessly, pounding the pavement with frightening force. Paul Shearer came through in the clutch; he grabbed the unreeling hose from the rear of the cart, and, much to the delight of the cheering crowd, made a perfect connection at the fire hydrant, hooking up for a winning time of 28 seconds. The city volunteers followed and got off to a pretty good start but did not match the ushers’ time and failed to make a clean connection at the hydrant.

Mixing It Up with the Opera Stars
We occasionally invited the opera stars to join us for parties at the infamous House of Usher (Weckbaugh House), and even challenged them to a softball game on a rocky field above the town. My favorite star was Frank Guarrera who is remembered by most opera-goers for his outstanding performances as Tonio in Pagliacci, Horace Tabor in The Ballad of Baby Doe and Amonasro in Aida (father of the heroine, Beverly Sills). I remember that he also made a circus catch in deep left field to rob me of a home run on that rocky field.

The 59er
The ushers’ favorite watering hole after the opera: no swinging door, but the beer was cheap and the atmosphere was unpretentiously appealing. The perfect setting for the 59er Ushers to celebrate Central City’s golden centennial.

My most treasured memory is knowing that my grandfather, William Fullerton, was one of the founders of the opera house. He and four others successful businessmen formed the corporation in 1877 to raise the money to build the opera house, which cost $23,000 when completed. (He put 10,000 in the pot to get it started). As a consequence, I am on the Central City Opera Board for “historical purposes.”

We were sitting in the front row enjoying Rossini’s Cinderella on July 28th, 1984 when a big hunk of the ceiling toward the back of the Opera House came crashing down with a terrific roar. About the size of a crib mattress, the errant section of ceiling smashed into smaller, less lethal pieces on the railing of the balcony and rained down on the audience members below.

Amazingly enough, except for a scratch or two, there were no injuries. Also amazing was the fact that the line that Robert Orth had just sung was: “Our little comedy will become a tragedy before the curtain descends.” That’s right: He sang those very words and then: WHAM! Immediately, of course, the opera ceased and the house was evacuated. Who knew if more of the ceiling was going to fall?

All of the members of the cast and most of the audience jammed into the Teller House where Orth and Peter Stummer and Gran Wilson proceeded to entertain the crowd with one musical number after another well into the night. A memorable night, indeed.

Lew and Leslie Cady

My family loved to tell of the event, which launched my determination to be a part of the Central City Opera Company, and so I remember it as if it had happened yesterday. My father, mother and I traveled from our small hometown (Wilsonville, NE.) in our!!! New!! 1936 FORD to visit my uncle, Madison Shaw and my aunt, Eldred Shaw who were living in Central City. I had just turned six and had been smitten by the theatre at age five when I won first prize (a silver dollar) singing “I’ll Never Say “Never Again” Again in the annual Amateur Contest held in Wilsonville’s Rainbow Opera House. I looked forward to seeing what was happening in the Central City Opera House.

My uncle had arranged for my mother and aunt to attend an evening performance of The Gondoliers at the Opera House and had tickets for my Daddy to take me to a puppet play in a ramshackle building down at the end of Eureka Street. I stated my wish to go to the “show” at the Opera House. My elders reasoned with me saying it was a show for grownups and the people in it would be walking around the stage wearing long robes and gold crowns and singing in very loud voices AND after the puppet show, your Daddy will take you to a café for ice cream.” I knew a scam when I heard it and declared I had ALWAYS wanted to see living people walking around in robes and crowns and to hear LOUD singing. I lost the argument. Daddy took me to the puppet show, the backstage area caught fire, the audience was hustled onto the street, and the café didn’t even have chocolate ice cream.

The next afternoon my uncle escorted us up Eureka Street to the stage door of the opera house to meet his friend Frank (Pancho) Gates, assistant to the great theatre designer Robert Edmond Jones who had joined the MacFarlances and Anne Evans in restoring the Central City Opera House and imbuing it with new life. A big man wearing work clothes came through the stage door. I am told I said, “Wow! You are a big fella! Where’s your long robe and you gold crown?” He responded, “Well, Cookie…I didn’t know I was going to be meeting you! My uncle explained my disappointment. I do have a memory of responding: “That’s O.K.  Someday I’m going to work in this opera house and hear as much loud singing and see as many gold crowns as I please!” Pancho replied, “Good for you, Cookie! Ask for Pancho when you get here. I’ll be glad to see you.”

From 1936-1952, except for the years of WWII, I visited my family in Central City for a week or so each summer, sometimes sneaking a listen to the operas at one of the side doors of the house, using my uncle’s ticket to a dress rehearsal, or splurging and buying a ticket. In 1953, I took the first step toward keeping my 1935 vow, walking boldly past the backstage doorman, Billy Hamilton, with a casual, “I’m here to see Pancho.” Billy pointed the way with his cane.

And there he was, “the big fella” himself! I reminded him of our 1936 exchange, and asked, “Where do I apply for that job?” Pancho asked, “What’s your specialty?” I replied, “acting and costuming.” He responded, “No actors needed but a head of costumes was another matter. Go talk to that bald guy standing over there in the wings. That’s Bob Brown, the General Manager.” I did and was astonished when Mr. Brown said, “Have dinner with me tonight at the Teller House and we’ll talk about it.” It seems the wardrobe lady, once the alterations were completed and the dress rehearsals over, had declared she was tired of this “opera stuff” and her hours would change to 8 AM-1 PM. She would do ironing and repairs only and go home. She didn’t like sweaty bodies, half naked people, or that terrible, loud music. Bob asked some questions about my experience. It included a good deal of work in the theatre at Colorado Woman’s College and much more work as a theatre major at Northwestern University as well as costuming several productions for a theatre in Evanston. Bob offered me the job starting the next day! Unfortunately, I had a summer commitment. He nearly wept. “Contact me in December about the 1964 season.” I did so and was hired. Incidentally, I was not a union member. The other production areas were unionized but the men accepted me because no Wardrobe Union card holder in Denver wanted to work “as hard as you have to in Central City and drive those roads back and forth to Central City six days a week.” Their loss was my gain.

I had made a vow to work at the opera in 1936 and had chosen to make the history and restoration of the Central City Opera House the subject of a research project at Colorado Woman’s College in 1949. I kept my vow in 1954. Shouldering major responsibilities and working twelve hour days six days a week plus another four hours or so on “dark Monday,” living in a small room in the Teller House which was lighted by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling and had all the amenities of an antique washbasin and pitcher, and an ancient W.C. and old bathtub down the hall for a pittance pay each week me question my sanity at times but the minuses were outweighed by the pluses: the fragrance of the clear air, laughter and meals at the Teller House, “liquid sunshine” as the sun struck the raindrops and lighted the mountains in the afternoon, the starry night skies, picnics and panning for gold, parties in lovely homes, the sound of those wonderful voices singing opera, and grand friendships forged and cherished.

Except for 1955 when the D’Oyly Carte Company brought its own large wardrobe staff and I took on the job as Box Office Manager for what became a sold-out season, I was Head of Wardrobe (Costume Mistress) with a tiny staff for eleven seasons through 1965 and had the great pleasure of working with many of the best singers, conductors, designers, stage directors, and production crews in North America AND I got to play walk-on roles in several opera!!

Once an opera opens, two of the primary responsibilities of a Wardrobe Department are 1) Keeping costumes clean, aired, and pressed and 2) Keeping costumes in repair. Re: 1) Dry cleaning/laundry service didn’t exist in Central City and 24-hour service wasn’t available in Denver until the early ‘60s. As I recall, it wasn’t washtubs in the Costume Room. Talk about “washday hands!” Management did, however, agree to purchasing a steam iron in 1956. The old “steamless” iron served as back-up. (All appliances were understood to be solely for wardrobe use.)

1957 Anecdote: When leaving the theatre, my assistant and I were very careful to close and lock the windows and the costume room door as the backstage door was often left unlocked. We had to discourage members of the company from “borrowing” items and guard against tourist seeking souvenirs. One day we hurried back from a working lunch. Shirts needed to be ironed for the matinee, shoes polished. One of the windows of the costume room was open! We were certain we had closed and locked it. We entered the dressing-room wing of the theatre. The costume room door was ajar! We knew we had locked it! We entered. THE IRONING BOARD AND IRON WERE ALWAYS SET UP FOR USE JUST INSIDE THE DOOR! THEY WERE GONE! It was clear. Someone had forced open the window, filched the ironing board and steam iron, opened the snap lock on the door and fled. We ran outside to look for evidence in the garden bed below the window. Ah! Ha! The thief’s large footprints were detected under the window and a plant was crushed. Obviously the thief was a big man! We looked toward the street. Here came THE BIG THEIF LUGGING THE IRONING BOARD AND FOLLOWED BY A BREATHLESS SMALL CHILD WHO WAS CLUTCHING A STEAM IRON BY IT’S HANDLE. HE was the great baritone Cornell MacNeil, one of our Rigolettos in the 1957 season. SHE was his little daughter Mary who loved to run away from home and visit the costume room. (That’s another story!)

It seems Mac’s wife had gone to a Laundromat in Idaho Springs with over a week of laundry for their family. On her return, she discovered both the iron and ironing board in the house assigned to them broken. Mac said, “She went berserk and started shouting that my shirt and her outfit for the party tonight HAD TO BE IRONE! I came here for help. The costume room was closed. I figured you were gone for that production meeting and lunch. Though, I could get this equipment back before you needed it.” He apologized and said. “I’ll fix the lock on the window.” I told him I would ask one of the stagehands to repair it. I could sympathize with his wife and knew she must still have lots of clothes to iron for the kids. So I offered him the “non steam iron” to use for the afternoon. (Mac was sure he could improvise an ironing board.) The theft set me thinking that Wardrobe needed a back-up steam iron in the event we lost or broke the one we had. The next day I talked Bob Brown into buying a second steam iron and making the one I lent Mac a “loaner iron” for the opera company. It was frequently borrowed and always returned in

The goal of Wardrobe is to discover the need for repairs well in advance of the next Performance. Singers were usually careful to draw our attention to repair needs. Nevertheless, there were almost always repair needs discovered in the last 20 minutes before curtain: “The clasp on my cape isn’t working.” “My suspender just broke.” “The feather on my hat has gone quirky.” “Help! My bustle has gone flat.”

In every cast, there was usually a singer or two- more often men than women- who frequently had repair emergencies at the last minute: buttons came loose, zippers stuck, shoe laces broke, collars, “felt funny,” etc. Joshua Hecht was one such singer. In the 1959 production of Ballad of Baby Doe, his pants split several times about eight minutes before curtain. I would ask: “What were you doing when your pants split this time?” His usual response was: “Just warming up.” I assumed he meant “warming up” his voice, vocal exercises many singers do before going on stage, but without damage to their costumes. I mentioned it to one of the stagehands. He laughed and said: “Oh, Hecht isn’t warming up his voice, he’s warming up with the Saloon girls who do high kicks, squats, and stretches backstage about ten minutes before curtain. I warned Josh that the fabric in his pants was wearing thin from all the repairs and he had better forego the exercises. Five minutes before curtain at his next performance, he rushed into the costume rooms yelling, “My pants split again!” I sent him to the little dressing room in the costume room to strip off his pants, threw them to my assistant, Ginny DeChaine, who was sitting at the sewing machine waiting for last minute emergencies and told her to work her magic. She quickly stitched a patch into them. I threw them back to Josh. He pulled the pants on and ran for the stage. When the scene ended, Josh returned to the costume room and said: “These pants feel strange! They are real stiff and they crackle when I move!” I asked him to change into his next costume and bring the “crackle pants” back to us. He did so. We found the opera program Ginny had been reading at the sewing machine had been sewn inside the crotch of his pants when she made the repair! Ginny swore it was unintentional. Josh ceased “ warm up dancing.”

Two blockbuster operas were selected for the 1960 season: Verdi’s Aida and Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermor, both grand in scale. The productions astonished Central City audiences with the magnificent scenic designs of Robert O’Hearn, the outstanding stage director of Nathaniel Merrill, and the great artistry of Beverly Sills as Aida and Judith Raskin as Lucia. As always Maestro Emerson Buckley reigned over all and inspired/threatened everyone into meeting his high standards/

Three anecdotes from this season are well worth telling:

1) A number of ushers were hired as “extras” to argument the size of the crowd scenes in both operas. They would race from their tour duties to the men’s dressing room and, depending upon the opera, would throw a kilt (Lucia) or the garb of a gladiator or prisoner (Aida) and dash to the stage. I made tow interceptions, one of a kilted Scotsman headed for the triumphal scene in Aida, the other of a scruffy prisoner headed for the Great Hall of the Lammermor’s, the setting of The Mad Scene. The very sight of him would have driven Maestro Buckley mad! Somehow we managed to correct the errors and each breathless usher arrived on stage in proper attire.

2) Judith Raskin’s Mad Scene in Act 3 of Lucia was both heart rendering and frightening. Nat Merrill built on Judy’s marvelous acting ability and asked her to wheel on a group of the wedding guest made up primarily of chorus members and ushers and “Convince them you are mad.” Well she convinced them! In the final dress rehearsal the action was so compelling the wedding guest scattered-some knocking into others, some fleeing the stage. After the Act 3 curtain, Maestro Buckley shouted the company together and threatened them with dire consequences if they ever again re-staged a scene or left the stage before directed to do so. One of the veteran chorus men told me he was never able to overcome the pity he felt for Lucia as Judy portrayed her and always fought back tears.

3) Much to her surprise, Beverly Sills was cast as Aida. In the New York City auditions for the season, Maestro Buckley asked her to sing arias from both operas. As it was known Donizetti was one of her favorite bel canto composers, she assumed the contract she received was for Lucia, signed it, and mailed it back to Buck. A short time later she received a score of Aida. Beverly called Buck and laughing (and Beverly Sills has an infectious laugh) told Buck he had sent her the wrong score that she was singing Lucia not Aida. Buck informed her that her hired her to sing Aida, that he was holding her signed contract in his hand and he expected her to honor it. Beverly honored the contract and performed the role brilliantly despite three major challenges, all related to costume, hair and makeup.

Aida’s costume for Acts I, III, IV was a pale blue-green chiffon gown with fortuna pleating from neck bone to ankle and a narrow cinch at the waist. At that time, Beverly wore a size 16 at most and had a size 12 waist. Fortuna pleating may have flattered Nefertiti but it would make a modern day Twiggy look like a hot air balloon. I called costume designer Bob O’Haern in for a consultation. He agreed it was very unattractive. There was not time to design and build a new costume. What to do? None of the chorus costumes were long enough for her. Beverly came to the rescue. She remembered her Mother (Shirley) had made her a concert gown, which, if she still had it, could be made to work. Quick to the backstage pay telephone. Shirley still had the dress. Yes, she would send it the fastest way possible to the Denver office. A member of the staff drove it up the mountain to Central City. The gown fit and looked fine. O’Heran’s Act II costume looked terrific on Beverly). Then the wig arrived from New York City. It looked dreadful. Nothing better could be found in Denver. Beverly volunteered to use a black hair rinse before each performance and wash it out afterward—a net trick in a small washbasin! A rather dark makeup was necessary to make her pass for Ethiopian. She agrees to use if on her face, neck, arms and hand…”But not on my legs or feet!!!”  I explained that as she was fair skinned and would be wearing sandals, the eyes of the audience would be drawn to her white feet. “NO!” Buckley asked me to persuade her to darken her feet. I tried. “NO!”  I offered to put the makeup on her feet and the lower part of her legs and wash it off for her at the end of the performance. “!NO!!!” Beverly Sills was an excellent colleague: hard working, high standards, delicious sense of humor and she had solved the costume and wig problem. Her friendship was more important than her foot color. End of subject!

On closing night of Aida, I helped Beverly into the lovely costume Bob O’ Hearn had designed for the Act 2 Triumphal Scene, checked on the other principal singers and the chorus and returned to the costume room. As the Stage Manager called, “Five minutes, please!” the costume room door opened and Beverly entered. She thanked me for my help throughout the season and for the good times we had shared, then lifted her skirt and said, “Mimi, JUST FOR YOU!” She had darkened her feet and legs!

My first trip to Central City Opera was when it opened when I was about 12 years old. Although my first opera with my mother was a “light opera” I became a devoted fan of any Central City performance. When I married Dr. Wally Maercklein he loved classical operatic music, but had never attended an opera. I suggested that we try Central City together and purchased tickets to La Traviata and we were both “hooked on” Central City Opera for many years.

Opera Memory: We convinced our good friends to attend Central City and they also were huge fans of Central City performances. We enjoyed attending Central City performances repeatedly-at least four times for each opera! We became well acquainted with the orchestra and for one performance they had each signed the program. When we began down the aisle to our front row seats on one particular evening, all of the orchestra stood up and applauded us. By the way, I still enjoy my front row seats that have been my season tickets for these many, many Central City performances.

Opera Memory: We became acquainted with the manager, Bob Brown. Realizing that Bob needed assistance in picking up cast members from the airport, my husband and I volunteered to help Bob (In those days there was no Guild to help with these volunteer task). On one particular occasion, Bob Brown asked us to pick up a young male cast member at the airport. We arrived before the cast member’s plane had landed. However, a young hostile extremely well dressed woman was in the airport on this blistering hot Denver day. This woman was the lead in the opera and she was extremely angry and irate because no one was there to pick her up. She was venting her anger to us until Bob Brown arrived and he then was the recipient of her rage. Meanwhile, the young man who we were assigned to greet and pick up had arrived to the airport. Bob Brown then convinced my husband and I to also take her to Central City as Bob said, “If I have to escort this women to Central City we may not have a lead for our opera as I may kill her.” So my husband who was the police sergeant for Arapahoe County- and on call that day said, “sure we will give her a ride.” As soon as we all got in the car he got an emergency call to the Littleton County Jail. So, the diva, now frantic, the young male cast member, my husband and I darted to the jail with red lights flashing and sirens blaring. By the time we arrived at the Littleton jail the diva had decided this adventure was a little more acceptable. I even convinced her to change out of her hot formal clothes right there in the Littleton County Jail. She was quite grateful! Once we finally got en route to Central City, we had a wonderful fun-filled trip. In fact, when the diva entertained later the highlight of her party was her tales of the adventure to the Littleton jail complete with lights and sirens.

Opera Memory: We became good friends with Spiro Millas. He enjoyed coming to our residence and enjoying our swimming pool. He often brought other members of the Central City cast with him. In fact, some of our neighbors overhead one of the cast members practicing an aria in our backyard and it was so beautiful that it convinced our neighbors to attend Central City.

Opera Memory: We had the opportunity to attend Aida in La Scala. That year Central City was also performing Aida. Although I admit we were a bit hesitant to see Aida on a small stage after experiencing La Scala- we were so completely enthralled with the Central City performance that we attended every night!!

Opera Memory: Since our seats were on the front row, we had a buds eye view of many details. For instance, we saw the heroine following the male lead across the stage (not part of the correct staging) because the heroines wig was caught in his cufflinks!

Opera Memory: I have had the opportunity to attend operas throughout the world at some of the most famous opera houses. But, Central City has been and is the love of my life.

Opera Memory: Although many things have changed, I now take the opera bus to Central City rather than escorting the cast, I’m still loyal to my front row seats at Central City and always look forward to great performances there.