success, and he was preparing for the close of the season another work
which he liked. They were kindly disposed to me at the Ministry of Fine
Arts and they interested themselves in my misfortunes. So they gave the
Théâtre-Lyrique a small subsidy on condition that they play my work. I
came to the theatre as one who has meddled and I quickly recognized the
discomforts of my position. First, there was a search for a singer;
then, for a tenor, and they tried several without success. I found a
tenor who, according to all reports, was of the first rank, but, after
several days of negotiation, the matter was dropped. I learned later
from the artist that the manager intended to engage him for only four
performances, evidently planning that the work should be played only
four times.

The choice finally fell on Blum. He had a fine voice, and was a perfect
singer but no actor. Indeed he said he didn't want to be an actor; his
ideal was to appear in white gloves. Each day brought new bickerings.
They made cuts despite my wishes; they left me at the mercy of the
insubordination and rudeness of the stage manager and the ballet master,
who would not listen to my most modest suggestions. I had to pay the
cost of extra musicians in the wings myself. Some stage settings which I
wanted for the prologue were declared impossible--I have seen them since
in the _Tales of Hoffman_.

Furthermore, the orchestra was very ordinary. There had to be numerous
rehearsals which they did not refuse me, but they took advantage of them
to spread the report that my music was unplayable. A young journalist
who is still alive (I will not name him) wrote two advance notices which
were intended to pave the way for the failure of my work.

At the last moment the director saw that he had been on the wrong tack