Perspective

Is she not the way that I described her?
We’re as unalike as black and white
Still, we are inseparable
Joined as day to night
Very clearly of a different feather
We’re an odd but merry pair of birds
She’d say I’m verbose and garrulous
But in fewer words
(laughs)
Laura!
(Hartright laughs)
I fear your journey here was tedious?
My journey was filled with drama!
First I met the local Signal Man… a strange and unearthly man.
He told me he’d had a vision that I would come here — and that I would bring
tragedy in my wake
Heavens!
Indeed!
But he said: «You will mark my words…
When a year to this day
The dead lie on the tracks!
The dead lie on the tracks!"
How strange!
What happened next
Was stranger still
A woman, breathless and afraid
Appeared out of the night
Completely dressed in white
She had a secret she would tell
Of one who had mistreated her
Her face and frightened gaze
My mind cannot erase
But then she ran from view
(to Laura)
She looked so much like you
Perhaps you saw a ghost?
Ghost or not… she haunts me still
She looked so much like you…
We must clear up this mystery!
But first, ladies — we must take advantage of this wonderful light!
(He moves off and the women follow, collecting their hats and sketch books)
SCENE: «Drawing Lessons»
(A beautiful summer’s day for their first drawing lesson. They are outside in
the formal gardens of Limmeridge House with a couple of servants,
all three before their easels. Laura puts on a hat and
Shawl. They stand before their easels drawing. We hear both what they express
openly and their inner thoughts)
Nothing’s duller
Than my watercolouring
I’ve next to no technique at all
My pen and ink are passable
My pen and ink appall
All my sketching soon will have you retching
I’m a notch below a chimpanzee
But we’re highly trainable!
We shall wait and see
You can capture shade and light
Best of all, perspective
All I ever do is trite
Beauty is subjective
You’ll develop your own style
He has such a winning smile
You will know when it feels right
I could trust him at first sight…
(It is now a few weeks later. We are in mid-summer)
Be observant!
Be a humble servant
Solely dedicated to your art!
I can hardly concentrate…
What a shaky start
(She tears up the paper)
Don’t conceal
The thing you think and feel
Get your emotion flowing through your brush!
If I follow your advice
You would surely blush
If I practice what you preach
I’d be more effective
She’s so clearly out of reach
Seen from my perspective
He’s a breath of summer air
See the sunlight in her hair
I must disregard his charms
And his manly rugged arms
(The maids lay out a picnic lunch. The three eat. There is the sense that we
are drifting through a long hot summer of drawing lessons)
Give me people!
Not a tree or steeple
Not a slice of apple and a knife
Still, life’s not as interesting
As a slice of life
You’re improving!
This is very moving
That’s a cocker spaniel, clear and true
Thank you for the compliment
I was sketching you
What’s the reason I am here?
What is my objective?
What a stirring atmosphere
But where is my perspective?
Can you get a dizzy thrill
While the world is standing still?
Yet the summer’s drifting by
While these golden moments fly
SCENE: «Late Summer»
(We are now in wilder countryside. It is hot. Collars are undone,
shawls are abandoned. Hartright starts to sketch Laura)