with a seventh (it is one of the notable moments in popular
music, and when you listen to it next time, see if you don’t find
that you have been hearing it all your life, as part of the cul-
ture), we are not surprised, for we know that a leading conven-
tion of musical drama has asserted itself, after having been
silent for the opening bars of the song.
The presence of the orchestra coming in to join Curly be-
yond Aunt Eller’s hearing is pure out-of-the-blue performance.
Even when the song is called for by the book and the character
is singing by the diegetic convention, the pit orchestra plays
from out of the blue, and no one thinks this odd. It seems nat-
ural for two dozen musicians to be chiming in when some cow-
boy is yodeling about a fine morning, and when no one ques-
tions such an absurdity, a basic convention of musical theatre
must be operating.
The significant point is that no one ever asks about this—it
is obvious. An orchestra accompanies a song in a musical. It
doesn’t have to be written into the book. That is nothing but a
convention, and no one has to think about it.
So let us think about it. What is the orchestra doing, down in
the orchestra pit?
Omniscience
The orchestra knows everything. It knows when to introduce
the numbers, when to bring them to a close, when to keep the
beat, when to keep quiet. It knows the difference between
book time and number time, and it knows how to set the two
apart, or lead from one to the other. One might say the conduc-
tor is the one who knows these things, but we may treat him as
part of the orchestra, without whom the conductor would look
like a fool.
The orchestra is the infallible element of a musical, the agent
that always knows what is coming and never misunderstands
acharacter or a turn of the plot. This is the true connection
between the Wagnerian aesthetic and the musical—not the
unity of all elements, but the omniscience of the orchestra. For