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280 •——— verso runninghead ———• ———— Chapter Twenty-Four ———— U Played Just Like a Wild Girl p Asmall calendar pasted into Cora’s scrapbook refers to April as “Dear Month,” and April 16 is underlined. That was the date of the Soirée Musicale at 8 p.m. in the chapel, when Cora would make her debut, performing an advanced chamber-music piece in front of the entire college, accompanied by professionals from the New York Philharmonic Society. Cora would share the glory of playing the final number, Weber’s Piano Quartet in B flat. After Miss Hayman played the first two movements, Cora would take the stage and conclude with the Allegro and difficult Presto as the evening’s finale. Miss Hinkel canceled her German classes that day. She was always on Cora’s side; she knew that Cora’s musical talent was more important to her life than her flailing efforts to memorize irregular German verbs. During the rehearsal, Cora was introduced to the three string players from the New York Philharmonic. She had seen them come up to Vassar the year before to accompany Miss Capron and Miss Hayman at the grand concert that had inspired her so profoundly last March. Concealing her nervousness, she shook hands firmly with each one of them: Mr. Herrmmann, violin; Mr. Schwarz, viola; and Mr. Bergner, violoncello. Cora was now about to attempt to fill Miss Capron’s extremely talented shoes. She and Miss Hayman briefly discussed with Professor Ritter where they would sit before they played and how they would make their entrance onstage. Then Cora took her place at the piano for her runthrough . She felt confident, but her fingers were sweaty and she could not keep her mind from darting around and getting stuck on irrelevant thoughts. Miss Hayman was watching her. They were rivals for the top spot in the music department. To her horror, Cora’s run-through began poorly, and she stumbled on her entrance in the Allegro and had to restart twice, even though it was an easy thing to come in on a downbeat at the beginning of the [ 280 ] •——— Recto Runninhead ———• 281 Vassar College chapel, site of all Cora’s concerts and piano recitals. Courtesy of Vassar College Archives. Members of the New York Philharmonic Club, part of the larger Philharmonic Society, ca. 1885. Friedhold Herrmmann (second from right), played violin with Cora in the April 16 concert. Courtesy of New York Philharmonic Archives. 282 •——— verso runninghead ———• main theme. After that bungle, the ensemble feeling in the Presto, a delicate dialogue between strings and piano, never materialized. Cold prickles broke out on her back, and she was ashamed to look at the Philharmonic players when she left the hall to go prepare for dinner. They smiled smoothly; their professional courtesy was impeccable. Maybe they did not expect much from a college girl. That made it worse. The rest of the day crawled by. She could never forget the public shame of missing her first big recital last May, when Miss Goodsell had pulled her from the program because of the problem with her German grades. She could not bear the thought that this concert might be another moment of humiliation in front of the entire college. At a quarter to eight, the students and faculty already filled the chapel pews and the balcony above to overflowing. Lydia sat next to Cora in the audience. As the first performers took their places on the stage and tuned up, Cora’s nervousness increased, and she started writing a note to Lydia in the program: “at last the concert don’t mention my nervousness mistakes.” On the inside page, the following “texted” dialogue continued between the two friends, in real time, in pencil: “are u nervous?” “tell me something funny before I go” L: I see Mr. Carlton— Oh. do u? where is he? L: 3rd row—next to the Japanese Co: no that is not he. u can’t come that on me L: Mr. Booth no puns please yr time is up, do u realize it go it [go play it] Cora arrived at the foot of the stage like an automaton, with a blank look on her face, suddenly overwhelmed with stage fright. All the noise and light in the hall seemed to shrink down to a single bright spot, far in the distance. Miss Hayman was already launching into her second movement. The repeated eighth notes of the minuet’s main phrase sounded like...

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