SCENE 8: MUSIC OF THE SPHERES

1962

The thunderstorm. The workers offstage are rushing to get things under cover. In the site office. The Engineer is showing the Architect some plans of the roof construction. Among the objects on the desk is a large bowl of oranges.

OFFSTAGE WORKERS

Take cover!

Get under cover,

Get that machinery under cover.

Take cover,

Clear the site!

ARCHITECT

No.

No, no, no!

It won't do.

WORKERS

She’s close.

Look out,

She’s gotta be a beauty,

A bloody beauty.

A flash of lightning

One and two and three and...

A roll of thunder

FOREMAN

She’s almost overhead.

ITALIAN WORKER

Watch out for lightning strikes!

ENGINEER

But it will stand.

The stresses will be spread evenly:

Here,

And here...

ARCHITECT

But look at it!

It's still all wrong.

ENGINEER

It's a compromise,

My friend.

ARCHITECT

Why?

Why compromise?

Why not get it right?

ENGINEER

Because we can't satisfy you

And the laws of nature

Thunder and lightning

ARCHITECT

(laughing at the irony, half seriously shouting to heaven)

Then we’ll have to rewrite the laws.

ENGINEER

Listen to me,

Listen.

We've spent a fortune

Getting this far

You've rejected every solution we've offered.

ARCHITECT

Every compromise you've offered.

ENGINEER

We've stretched ourselves

To the limits!

To the limits of our skill.

ARCHITECT

Then go further.

ENGINEER

How much further can we go?

A pause. Offstage a siren sounds to signal the end of the working day.

FOREMAN

Clear the site,

No more work today.

CHORUS

You little ripper!

ITALIAN WORKER

Rain affected pitch!

FOREMAN

Thank you, linesmen, thank you, ball boys...

Some laughs at this

ITALIAN WORKER

Let's adjourn to the members bar.

More laughs

WORKERS

Three cheers for mother nature:

‘ray, ‘ray, ‘ray.

ARCHITECT

If you said to me now

You can't do it,

I don't believe there's

An engineer in the world who can.

ENGINEER

I'm trying, my friend,

We're all trying,

But my staff are all exhausted.

Why must you be so demanding?

ARCHITECT

I want the people

Who come here

To feel the mystery;

The power of a special place

That belongs to them,

That they belong to.

Not to see all we were able to build

Or even to care who built it;

But to wonder

At how it was built

And to wonder

That it was built at all.

ENGINEER

You're no ordinary architect,

My friend!

ARCHITECT

This is no ordinary building.

ARCHITECT, ENGINEER

You and I my friend

We'll do more than our best

Whatever it takes

We'll find a way

You and I my friend

We'll go on with the quest

Taking the best, not

The easy way.

Partners,

You and I

On a path worth blazing;

That others may follow.

Heedless of the cost,

Of the risks we’re taking,

The flak that we’ll swallow.

Come what may, my friend,

There can only be one

Conquering aim:

Together

We’ll work without ceasing

ARCHITECT

Eyes on the prize

Shining bright

You and I

ENGINEER

Eyes on the shining prize

You and I

More thunder and a crack of lightning. The maestro of the con appears at the door.

MAESTRO

Architect,

A word...

ARCHITECT

Of course, come in ,

Come in...

MAESTRO

Thank you...

ARCHITECT

...Out of the storm .

MAESTRO

Quite a storm out there.

ARCHITECT

You know the Chief Engineer?

MAESTRO

I don't believe we've met...

ARCHITECT

The Maestro is the ‘top dog’here on the orchestral music scene ...

ENGINEER

A pleasure...

ARCHITECT

An old friend,

And a new member of the Opera House Committee...

MAESTRO

An honour for me, I assure you.

A great honour.

ARCHITECT

How can I ...help you?

Pause

MAESTRO

I felt you should know...

ARCHITECT

Yes?

MAESTRO

There's an element on the committee

That is....

ARCHITECT

Go on.

MAESTRO

How shall I put it....

Having second thoughts

About some of the details

Of the interiors.

Members in danger of being....

How shall I put it....

Of being swayed

By the less enlightened

Members of the Press and

The grand viziers in

The Department of Works.

We're meeting tomorrow

And I think you should be there.

ARCHITECT

You know what I think of politics.

MAESTRO

Bureaucrats have long memories

They haven't forgiven the old premier

For setting up this project

Outside of their control,

And things have begun to change:

Although the Opera House Committee

Still is making the decisions,

The Minister of Works

Now signs the cheques.

ARCHITECT

I don't care who signs the cheques, I just cash them.

MAESTRO

Heaven help you,

If there's a change of government

And you still haven't learnt

The game.

ARCHITECT

I haven't time to play games,

There are too many real problems to solve.

MAESTRO

That I know too well,

All too well,

But if you think yourself above

That brawling mob in Parliament House

They’ll tear you down

And trample on you!

ARCHITECT

What a curious conversation this is.

ENGINEER

What exactly concerns the committee?

Perhaps I can be of help.

MAESTRO

Certain members...

Are beginning to doubt

The Architect's ability

To...finish the building.

ARCHITECT

A work of this size

Is bound to have its problems!

ENGINEER

It’s a monumental task

We have in front of us!

MAESTRO

I’m not one of them mind you,

I must stress that,

But frankly...

We're all worried,

Very worried,

About the progress

Of the roof construction.

ENGINEER

It’s a slow process...

MAESTRO

Slow!

You’re at an impasse!

ARCHITECT

But that's the nature of the struggle

To reach the optimum solution...

MAESTRO

I think a dash less artistic struggle

And a little more pragmatism

Is what’s now required.

ARCHITECT

How can you of all people say these things?

A musician,

A conductor...

MAESTRO

Put yourself in our position

The press is tearing us to shreds.

I fear that we can't keep the politicians

Off your back for very long.

They’re beginning to bay for blood.

The costs,

Delays,

All that we understand.

But we need to know

Once and for all

How the building will be finished.

And when.

And if.

ENGINEER

To the Architect

Let me handle this.

To the Maestro.

I'll come to the meeting tomorrow.

MAESTRO

That would certainly help.

ENGINEER

There is no doubt

In my mind, Maestro,

The opera house can be built

His way.

The only way

The best way

His way,

A wonder.

ARCHITECT

My way...

Do I know the way?

I wonder...

MAESTRO

The only way?

Is it the only way?

I wonder...

Till tomorrow then,

Midday.

An appropriate time...

High Noon.

The Maestro leaves, the Engineer takes up his plans.

ENGINEER

I'll see you in the morning.

There's work to do on these,

Maybe we missed something...

ARCHITECT

Thank you.

The Engineer leaves. The Architect turns to his plans. His frustration turns to rage at himself as he slams his fist on his drawings. The bowl of oranges spills onto the floor.

ARCHITECT

Damn it!

Still these shapes of mine refuse my will;

Refuse to rise!

They lie there still

Fixed on the page.

Damn it ! DAMN IT!

Six years ago,

These same lines shimmered:

Danced from my mind

With a life of their own.

Now gravity bends my ideas

To breaking point.

My shells of cloud and sky,

My shells of wind and sail,

Now earthbound with the weight of concrete.

Shattered.

Broken.

Empty.

His frustration and anger spent he begins to pick up the fallen oranges. The voices of earth and sky are heard.

SKY, EARTH

And the spirit of man

Is torn between:

Is torn between

The earth he knows and the sky he's seen.

The Architect is holding an orange and becomes aware of its shape in his hand.

ARCHITECT

One touch of nature's hand,

And all our labours,

Our childish geometry

is quietly mocked.

The Architect has been slowly peeling and studying the orange.

Each segment of this golden sphere

Curves with the eye,

With the eye of a god.

Each segment,

Each curve, the communion

Of infinite tangential planes;

Each curve

The same geometry

As a god’s golden eye.

If I could carve my roof

From such geometry,

Could I defy gravity?

Hang my building from another logic?

Another logic...

Gradually as the Architect solves the structural problem, the image of the "spherical solution" of intersecting circles is created.

Order from within:

Each shell the surface of a sphere!

Circles of light

Carved from one great orb.

One sphere,

One geometry,

Like chunks of the firmament itself.

So complex ,

So simple!

Circles of light,

Assembled

Segment by segment;

Each fanlike rib yielding

Beauty, geometry, logic.

Circles of light,

Carving into the eye of a god...

SKY, EARTH

Between earth and sky

It's here you live and here you die

And the spirit of man

Is torn between:

Is torn between

The earth he knows and the sky he's seen.

ARCHITECT

Reaching,

Rising,

Out of the earth

And into the sky.

I can build my dream.

END OF ACT ONE

Scene 9