A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Forty-Two
Spring 1916 was to be Rose's final semester
at Vassar, and she intended to make the most of it. To that end she threw
herself into extracurricular activities: joining planning committees for
various social events, helping to organize marches and letter-writing campaigns
as an officer of the Suffrage Club, and putting in an appearance at every art
show at Taylor Hall and in town. Her own portfolio had expanded considerably
during her tenure in the studio program, and she felt ready to share her work
with a wider audience.
Professor Curry, whom Rose had adopted as a
mentor, was impressed with Rose's continued growth and ambition under her
tutelage, but knew the reality of an artist's life. She invited her student to
her office one morning in early March to discuss career options.
"You have three months until
graduation," she said. "Have you applied to any of the galleries I
recommended?"
"Yes," Rose replied. "No
responses yet, but I've only just started. I also sent letters to a few in New
York that I found on my own."
"That's wonderful." The
instructor's enthusiasm was genuine, but tempered by caution. Rose, quick study
that she was, didn't fail to notice.
"But..." she prompted.
Professor Curry sighed. "I worked in New
York once I graduated college, as you know. The art world there is...well,
brutal, for lack of a better word. Only the very best--and most resilient--are
able to make a living, and that's usually after years of struggle. And, sadly
to say, they're usually male."
Rose nodded. "Believe me, I'm aware of
all this. I've spent three years preparing myself."
"Yes, and against incredible odds.
Moving here from the Midwest on your own, working your way through school as a
governess, taking summer courses so you can graduate a semester early. We truly
admire you here, Rose. But there are students at other schools just like you,
and some of them have enough financial support from their families to be able
to take a few low-paying apprenticeships, or maybe not work at all for a while.
Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Rose understood all too well. If her father
were still alive, she could have been one of those fortunate ones. So ironic
that she'd had to leave her pampered life behind to even attend university.
"You're my best student this year, and I
won't discourage you from any path you choose to take," the professor was
saying. "But I think you might do well to consider alternatives to the
galleries and museums in this area. Perhaps relocating to a less competitive
market would work for you, or teaching?"
She meant well. Rose put on her most
appreciative expression and thanked her, all the while self-doubt creeping into
her thoughts.
With no more classes for the remainder of the
morning, Rose wandered over to the Main hall to read the notices posted on the
bulletin board outside the dining room. A large flier caught her attention:
ALL
THE WORLD'S A STAGE
and we need players!
PHILALETHEIS will celebrate Founder's Day
and
The Shakespeare-Cervantes Tercentenary
with productions of
The Tempest
and
Man Who Cured His Wife of Talking
and scenes from
Captivity
CAST AND CREW WANTED
Many roles available, no experience necessary
AUDITIONS to be held in the old theater
Friday, March 10
7 PM
SIGN UP HERE!
Several students had already scrawled their
signatures on the spaces provided at the bottom of the form.
Rose was about to move on when a mocking
voice assailed her. "Oh, dear, advertise for talent and this is what you
attract. I'm sorry, Rose, but the theater already has someone to sweep the
floors."
Inwardly, Rose groaned. Rather than simply
acknowledge their differences and avoid her, as Rose sought to do, Angelica
went out of her way to fling barbs at Rose each time they saw one another. It
was bad enough Rose had been forced to take a single room on another floor in
the dormitory this year due to her former roommate's animosity. Angelica still
couldn't let her resentment over the Sebastian affair go.
"Hello, Angel," Rose replied,
emphasis on the nickname. "Actually, I was surprised to see this notice.
Surely you've gotten all the parts already?"
"Only the most important one,"
Angelica bragged. "Prospero, in The Tempest. It's the lead."
"I'm aware of that. We would have been
in the same Shakespeare class if you ever went. Now if you'll excuse
me..." Rose departed hastily before things could get any nastier.
The events of the day soured her mood for the
remainder of the week, and the unexpected arrival of Sebastian Friday afternoon
did little to help matters. She didn't shamelessly throw her arms about him as
she typically did, and complained of a headache when he suggested they have
lunch at a local restaurant. Sebastian insisted that he was starved and Rose
relented, then was uncharacteristically silent over the meal.
Finally he remarked, "Isn't it a little early
for final examinations?"
Rose smiled apologetically. "I'm
behaving a little tense, is that it?"
"You haven't been this glum
since--" His eyes narrowed. "That Thomas chap hasn't contacted you
again, has he?"
"Oh, no, no," Rose said, anxious
for him to forget any such notion. "He wouldn't dare. It's just--in three
months I'll have earned my degree, but I'm worried I may not have a job waiting
for me." She related the conversation she'd had with Prof. Curry.
"Sometimes I feel as though I can't spend another weekend with the Scotts.
There's so much discord in that house. What if I have to stay on there after
graduation? What if I never find...oh, no."
"What is it?"
Rose nodded in the direction of the cafe's
entrance, where Angelica and two friends Rose recognized as members of
Philaletheis had made a noisy entrance. She turned her head and shielded her
face, but they'd already been spotted. Angelica made a beeline for their table.
"Sebastian, darling, how are you?"
she trilled, extending a hand for him to kiss. He shook it lightly and left it
dangling. She pretended to overlook the insult, turning to Rose.
"So are you ready for tonight?"
Before Rose could respond, Angelica added to Sebastian, "Maybe you'd like
to come our open call. Rosie has decided she wants to be an actress."
"Angelica, I think your friends are
hungry," Rose snapped.
"Ah, so they are. So nice seeing you,
Sebastian." Angelica locked eyes with Rose, hers glinting with
satisfaction, and headed to the table where her friends were studying menus.
"What's this about you going to an
audition?" Sebastian appeared pleasantly surprised.
"I'm not. She saw me looking at an
advertisement outside the dining room on campus and got the silly idea that I
was signing on."
"I don't think it's silly. What play is
it?"
Rose told him, adding that Angelica had
already won a plum role.
"Then she'll be onstage this evening,
helping to audition the other actors," Sebastian said. "Do you mind
if we go watch?"
"I certainly do!" Rose said,
indignant.
"I'm sorry, but Fritz will be upset if
he discovers that I was here and didn't see his daughter rehearse. He's
grooming her for the troupe."
"I know. That's one person who will
never want for work."
In the end, Sebastian was able to win her
over, but he was not alone in his efforts. They found Vera and Charlotte,
roommates once again, in the dorm library, and Charlotte revealed that Vincent
had convinced her to join the crew.
"I never participate in any campus
activities," she said. "This will be fun."
Rose appealed to Vera, "Don't tell me
you've been sucked in, too."
"And have to endure Angelica's tantrums
when her lighting isn't just right? No, thank you. It would take too much time
from my studies, anyway. But I am going tonight, just to see all those hapless
fools onstage."
At seven sharp they were all seated in the
rear of the indoor theater, where rehearsals would be held until it was warm
enough to practice in the new outdoor theater. The director and faculty advisor
of the literary society, a short and stout woman wearing a colorful ensemble,
welcomed the acting hopefuls warmly and began reading names from a list. When
her name was called, each student was to indicate whether they were interested
in being part of the cast or crew.
Upon hearing her name, Charlotte joined a
small group in another part of the theater who were awaiting backstage
assignments. It was then that Angelica, part of a clique of theater students up
front, noticed Rose and Sebastian. Her lips pursed and she looked away quickly.
Rose, bored with the proceedings, began to
study the cracks in the theater ceiling. Her eyes closed and her thoughts
drifted.
"Rose Dawson."
She came awake with a start.
"Rose Dawson?" the director
repeated. She craned her neck and peered into the far reaches of the
auditorium. "Are you here, Rose?"
Heat crept up the back of her neck. She felt
eyes on her and slid lower in her seat.
"She's right here," Sebastian
tattled.
She shot him a warning glare. "I'm
afraid there's been a mistake," she spoke. "I'm not here to
audition."
"Then you want to be in the crew."
"No." Rose shook her head
vehemently. Everyone in the theater was staring at her now, Sebastian and Vera
grinning mercilessly. Rose wanted to slap them both.
"Well, what is your name doing on the
list, then?" The director waved the flier from the Main hall. Rose was
unable to read the signatures on the bottom from where she sat, but she knew
her name was there. How it got there she couldn't say.