Читать книгу My City Different - Betty E. Bauer - Страница 14

Canyon Road veered off Paseo de Peralta to the east toward the mountains and, until the late 50’s, had been mostly residential, although there were splotches of commercialism. There was a grocery and bar at 656, Gormley’s grocery, and the Canyon Road Bar, a little way farther up the road just beyond the intersection with Camino del Monte Sol. Spotted here and there were artists’ studios/galleries.

Eleanor Bedell was one of the first to move her store from downtown Sena Plaza to Canyon Road. She called her place simply The Shop and offered trash to treasure. She was quickly followed by Kay Stephens and her Santa Fe shirts which were expensive reproductions of the Mexican wedding shirt, Kathryn Kenton’s ladies boutique, and Abacus Bookstore.

The big change came to Canyon Road with the opening of Claude’s bar and restaurant about 1956. She had Jacques Cartier, who had an eye for style, to design the interior. A long, handsome bar dominated the front room where you entered. There were stools at the bar and two or three small tables against the wall opposite.

I remember John Crosby sitting alone at the bar, probably dreaming of plans for his Santa Fe Opera. Several of us were sitting at one of the small tables. The phone, which hung on the front wall next to the door, began ringing—the one behind the bar was ringing, too, but the bartender had gone to the cellar to fetch a special bottle of imported wine so there was no one to answer. We all shouted in unison, “John, answer the phone!” He looked at us and, slightly dazed, got up and answered the phone. It was a patron who wanted a reservation. John, straight-faced, listened, hung up and, without a word, walked back to the bar and wrote the information down on a cocktail napkin which he later gave to the bartender.

The large square room beyond the bar was the dining room with tables around the perimeter and a small dance floor in the center. The tables were clothed in white with small vases of bright fresh flowers in the center. An enormous fireplace occupied most of the far wall opposite the bar. Tongues of flame lazily crept up amongst the piñon logs nestled in the huge grate, issuing a cheery welcome to the diners.

Claude was an accomplished French cook. It was there that I was introduced to escargot. Coming from Missouri, I had not been exposed to that particular delicacy. “Snails!” I cried, shocked and horrified. Finally, I was persuaded to try them. Gingerly, I plucked one from its shell and, with great misgiving, tasted the rubbery critter. Well!!! They were certainly missing something in Missouri, and I became an immediate convert.

Claude’s became immensely popular and was frequented by all who were anyone or who aspired to be, including Governor John Simms, Mayor Leo Murphy, State Senators, doctors, lawyers and much of the gay population.

Midway of an evening, Claude would appear in the dining room dressed in one of Kay Stephens’creations, long full skirt of heavy white cotton with a matching wedding shirt. She’d give the trio…piano, bass and violin—a sign and they would play the opening bars of La Vien Rose. Claude, her throaty voice suggestive of Marlene Dietrich, would sing in French. The audience loved it and her, and she’d follow with a couple more French songs. When Claude wanted to be, she could be exceedingly charming. She could also be a bitch.

John Crosby’s opera opened during the summer of 1957. Little did we realize that it was destined to become internationally famous or that it would change Santa Fe forever.

John Levert, a tall, blond Louisianan from New Orleans, was sugar rich and owned a vast ranch just north of town off the Taos Highway. John and his friend and partner, a Dutchman named Hendrik ter Weele had purchased the Dockwiller property, a spread of 550 acres, in 1939. They built a fabulous ranch house with many guest rooms and called it San Juan Ranch, which they ran as a guest ranch until 1956.

The ranch was on the west side of the road among the foothills and faced the Sangre de Cristo mountains to the east. Farther to the west lay the Jemez range and enthralling sunsets which, after misty evenings, were reflected in incredibly gorgeous rainbows over the Sangres. This setting, John Crosby decided, was ideal for his opera, and a purchase was arranged. So the Santa Fe Opera, which many thought was John Crosby’s pipedream, was on its way to becoming reality.

In retrospect, the first house was very small, but elegant. It seated only 482, and all of the seating was open to the elements. The first rows were box seats of comfortable chrome and laced vinyl, followed by rows of seasoned timber benches topped with thick blue cushions. Redwood fences hugged by stately poplars protected the audience somewhat from the night air, but not enough, and there was no roof for the audience. We wore winter clothes, including heavy coats, took blankets and thermos bottles full of black, heavily-spiked coffee to ward off the cold.

The redwood stage and outspread wooden walls supported the roof at its rear, which then canted upward to be braced at the sides by six pillars. It was fitted with a series of baffles to reflect sound from the orchestra to the performers. Behind the orchestra pit and in front of the box seats lay a raised, curved pool with the water bouncing the sound to the audience. It was an acoustical marvel.

Sliding panels at the rear of the stage opened to the piñon-covered hills and the western sky which many a time produced a full moon or loud roll of thunder as if on cue.

From its first performance to a packed house, the Santa Fe Opera was a smashing success. Distinguished for its stunning productions, superlative performances, skillfully-designed sets and gorgeous costumes, it soon attracted opera buffs from around the world.

The original house burned to the ground in 1967, but from its ashes there arose a larger, more magnificent house which today seats more than four times as many patrons as the original house. The high standards set in that original house from its opening night have not only been upheld, but more often than not have been surpassed.

Because of the Opera’s excellence, its reputation put Santa Fe on the map and the small town, isolated from reality for 400 years, abruptly met the 20th Century.