The Substitute

No performer has a more thankless task than the substitute.

During a performance of La Gioconda at New York’s Metropolitan Opera House in October 1982 tenor Placido Domingo was scheduled to sing the role of Enzo. He felt a cold coming on and thought about canceling. The management asked Carlo Bini–who was slated to take over the role in a few days–to prepare himself.

Domingo decided to go on, relying on his technique to carry him through the performance, so Bini relaxed and sat down among the audience to enjoy the opera. During the first intermission though, Bini was hit with the news that Domingo’s cold was getting worse and that the great tenor felt that pushing his performance further would harm his voice. Domingo was supposed to sing three performances of Tosca the following week and he felt that he had to bow out for the remainder of La Gioconda.

Hastily, Bini put on the unfamiliar costume and stepped into Act Two without the benefit of a stage rehearsal. He was unsure of where he was supposed to be from one moment to the next. When his first key aria came the unpracticed Bini was at the mercy of the crowd, some of whom could barely contain their amusement. Mignon Dunn–the soprano lead–attempted to help Bini with his stage nerves by holding his hands firmly in hers during their scene together. When his hands slipped a little too low on her body some of the audience laughed out loud. Fistfights erupted between detractors and supporters of the performance.

Finally the conductor, Giuseppe Patane, turned and implored the audience at least to have some respect for the composer. Things quieted down. But by the third act Maestro Patane’s blood pressure was so erratic that he too had to withdraw from the performance. So a stand-in, staff conductor Eugene Kohon, stepped forward, bravely facing the groans of the audience as he took on the task of bringing the opera to a close.

One can only surmise that heaven holds a special place for that most maligned performer–the substitute.