[Night falls in the Museum of Fine Arts. The last couple of visitors, played by CHORUS members, mill about before leaving. After all CHORUS members have left the stage, ATLANT steps out of a mural on display, looking wistfully at the exhibition he is part of.]
ATLANT
Where is home?
Where is that place,
half-remembered in dreams?
Paint over the white walls,
cover the spotlights, the exhibit panels.
Draw me a scene of mountains,
with a church nine centuries old.
Oh, let me see it,
let me see it again.
[ATLANT closes his eyes, moves towards center stage.]
[The scene shifts to a collage of Santa Maria de Mur.]
ATLANT
When was the last bell for Lauds?
I remember painted walls,
a stone-carved altar, incense wafting.
Some days there were cloudless skies,
some nights there were summer fireflies.
Sometimes there were storms
that thundered all around,
some days there was pouring rain.
It was not always peaceful.
[At a gesture from ATLANT, CHORUS members enter and form the tableau of a battle scene.]
A count was slain in battle once,
and left a son to take his place.
Peace and truce came after.
Then we were painted,
telling them to only heed God’s justice.
[CHORUS members silently disperse and exit.]
And this was home, to me.
[The scene shifts to an old photo of Santa Maria de Mur.]
ATLANT
Over centuries,
the old counts and monks left,
congregations came and went.
I miss them sore.
But on a strange, happy day…
[ATLANT gestures again. Enter CHORUS members, dressed as researchers. They mime making preparations: setting up a box camera, taking out notebooks and pencils, preparing measuring tape. In all of this, they should ignore ATLANT, and go about their business as if he’s not there.]
ATLANT
Strangers came to church.
They had odd belongings,
sounded out-of-town,
they looked so strange,
but so well-dressed-
they were writing a book
about the paintings in the valley…
[CHORUS members continue to mime the process of recording architectural details- taking notes, measuring the length of floors, etc.]
Chorus 1 (spoken)
Have you got the floor plan down?
Chorus 2 (spoken)
Just about.
Chorus 3 (spoken)
Make sure it’s clear, boy- think of the readers!
Chorus 2 (spoken, aside)
And the Institut.
Chorus 3 (spoken, proudly)
But above all- for our patrimony.[CHORUS 1 and 2 look at each other, as if to say ‘he’s talking about that again’. However, despite that sentiment, they understand the gravity of what CHORUS 3 means. All of them go back to their work. After wrapping up their work, all CHORUS members exit, discussing their findings to one another as they go. ATLANT looks longingly as they leave, and eventually follows after them.]
[In different outfits from before, CHORUS 1 and 2 enter from stage left, CHORUS 3 enters from stage right, looking the part of a rich businessman. CHORUS 1 and 2 hold a book in their hands. All 3 meet, and talk casually (in mime). CHORUS 2 eventually hands the book over to CHORUS 3. CHORUS 3 flips through the book, a delighted smile on their face. They shake hands with CHORUS 1 and 2. CHORUS 1 and 2 nod and leave in the direction they came from, and CHORUS 3 follows suit soon after, studying the book carefully as they go.]
[The scene changes. It is now darker, more foreboding. Enter ATLANT.]
ATLANT
How did this painting leave its home?
I remember
days of dry storms, thunder
howling all about,
wind crying.
The church’s pastor had no money-
and a hole had sprung in the roof.
It let the rain in!
We could have collapsed!
There seemed no way out.
But two weeks after-
like a miracle, it was fixed
with money from a stranger-
a second chance.
And in return…
[Abruptly, the scene shifts to a black screen. ATLANT is violently pulled offstage by CHORUS 1 and 2, who have entered suddenly. CHORUS 3 strides onstage in business attire, detailing the following text in a professional manner.]
Chorus 1 (spoken)
Among the various methods of detaching wall paintings, the method called strappo is considered to be the least invasive. First, the area to be removed is cleaned, then covered with animal glue. Cotton cloths are then overlaid on top of the glue, and this process of alternating between glue and cloth is repeated many times. Once the layers of glue have dried, the cloths are removed from the wall, taking the painting with them. The painting is then transferred to a backing layer, and can be transported safely.
[CHORUS 1 exits. The lights then gradually black out. (During this time, a box should be moved onstage, and the singer playing ATLANT should move onstage discreetly.)]
[Faint spotlight on ATLANT, sitting on a box.]
ATLANT
In the darkness, I prayed
for God to deliver me from all ills.
I clasped my hands, bowed my head
and closed my eyes,
like the parishioners do.
But I have since learnt
of the swaying of the sea
the hum of metal cranes
the rumble of tarmac roads,
and there was no answer.
See, we arrive at port.
[Spotlight fades out.]
[Lights up abruptly. The next scene is “brutally” revealed to be the Museum of Fine Arts exhibit, superimposed over a picture of the Savoy Hotel’s interior. CHORUS members (and possibly extras) take the role of auction attendees- they should ignore ATLANT and go about their business like they are at an actual auction.]
Chorus 1 (spoken)
Twenty thousand!
Chorus 2 (spoken)
Twenty thousand’s cheap. Fourty thousand!
Chorus 3 (spoken)
Fourty-five!
Chorus 2 (spoken)
Fifty thousand!
ATLANT:
Where did I end up?
The painting asked.
The next thing it knew,
it was here.
Chorus 3 (spoken)
Sixty thousand!
Chorus 1 (spoken)
Sixty-five!
Chorus 2 (spoken)
Sixty-seven!
Chorus 3 (spoken)
Sixty-nine!
[ATLANT looks up at where the background is.]
ATLANT:
Can I go back?
Can it ever return? it asked.
Could it ever call a museum home,
it wondered?
CHORUS 1 (spoken)
Seventy!
CHORUS 2 (spoken)
Seventy-five!
Chorus 3 (spoken)
Seventy-six!
Chorus 1 (spoken)
Seventy-nine!
ATLANT:
No, no, it cannot.
The walls are too bare,
the spotlights prick my eyes.
Chorus 2 (spoken)
Eighty!
ATLANT (with increasing distress)
Where are the stone walls,
where is the incense,
the chants and brothers’ murmurs-
Where are they?
Will I never see them again?
Ah! What I’d give to go back! I’d give-
Chorus 3 (spoken)
A hundred thousand!
[Silence. The other CHORUS members slowly glance at each other, as if they know they’d been outbid. One of them steps up, acting as an auctioneer.]
Chorus 1 (spoken)
A hundred thousand! This piece might as well be sold!
Any more bids, gentlemen?
[Pause, and the rest of the representatives present shake their heads, indicating for CHORUS 1 to continue.]
Chorus 1 (spoken)
Going once… going twice… and… sold! Congratulations to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts!
[Applause from CHORUS 1 and 2. ATLANT turns to look forlornly toward CHORUS 3, and the mural’s exhibit behind them, almost as if he wants to ask CHORUS 3 something. CHORUS 3 remains unmoved, instead looking toward CHORUS 1 in anticipation. Lights dim and everyone exits save for ATLANT.]
ATLANT
Where is home?
Where is that place…?