What is the first image that comes to mind when you hear the word '"music hall"'?
A grand and opulent lobby, a massive stage, an elegant piano, or a spectacular orchestra, with well-dressed and courteous patrons? However, when Elina and her sister Janet followed their mother to a music hall for the first time, their experience turned out to be quite different from what they had imagined.
Rather than the highbrow venue they had envisioned, it felt more like a 'live house'—a bar with live music performances. In fact, music halls had evolved from taverns. Since drinking was prohibited in traditional theaters, taverns began to offer cheap entertainment to attract patrons, eventually drawing in workers, intellectuals, and even the upper class.
Naturally, Mrs. Campbell took them to a more proper venue—the 'Cantor Music Hall', known as the largest and grandest in the history of Luenton. The building stood four stories tall, though only two were used for seating. The second level wrapped around three sides of the main hall like a corridor and was referred to as "the gallery," although the name had nothing to do with art. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the spacious hall, the walls were draped in vivid amber-colored silk, and the decor was quite lavish.
Rows of tables were packed with people, and on the tables sat glasses of wine, potatoes, lamb chops, and boiled eggs—an impressive spread.
At the far end of the hall stood a wooden stage slightly elevated above the crowd, with a grand piano and an organ placed on it. The host sat on the stage, engaging warmly with the guests and frequently encouraging them to drink. Behind him hung soft silk curtains, presumably where the performers would emerge.
Elina and her sister followed their mother to the bar to order food. Mrs. Campbell ordered a feast and drinks, gave the waiter a tip, and led them to their reserved seats. They had booked seats with padded armrests for five shillings on the first floor. The gallery on the second floor, with its poor view from above, was the cheapest section. Mrs. Campbell originally wanted to book a two-guinea private box, but Elina preferred sitting in the lively area.
And lively it was—boisterous and full of chatter. Elina had to lean close to Janet to hear her.
"When does the show start?" Janet asked.
Elina pulled out a three-penny program and checked the schedule.
"Seven-thirty!" she replied.
It was only seven now, so they began to enjoy the food. Elina tried the roasted potatoes—crispy and delicious as always. The oysters were fresh and tender, the lamb chops crisp outside and juicy inside. Their mother only allowed them one drink each: Elina chose gin, and Janet opted for wine—clearly unfamiliar with urban legends involving wine barrels and corpses.
Even after all this time, a glance down the long table revealed that few people were ordering wine.
As they were eating, a woman at the next table suddenly struck up a conversation.
"Hi, is this your first time here?"
Even though they had armchairs, the tables were packed so tightly that it was impossible to walk between them. As a result, they were seated very close to the woman at the next table.
Janet shook her head and replied, "Yes, it's our first time."
"Well, you're in for a treat," the woman said enthusiastically, raising her glass in a toast. "There's an excellent singer performing tonight—but only on Saturdays. You're lucky to catch her."
"Really?" Janet's eyes lit up. "Then we came at just the right time."
They had just finished eating and drinking when the show began—right on time.
At first, it wasn't singing and dancing. The show opened with a troupe of dancing dogs, followed by performers riding bicycles while playing instruments, and then acts involving sword swallowing, beatboxing, frog impersonations, magic tricks, and tightrope walking… all far more entertaining than most company annual parties.
The performances went on for two hours. Janet laughed and cheered with the rest of the audience, clapping so much her hands were sore. Although Elina had seen more spectacular shows on TV and the internet, this was live—and she couldn't take her eyes off it.
Finally, they reached the highlight of the evening—song performances.
As a music hall, its most praised acts were musical ones. Several singers sat staggered along the wooden steps of the stage and began with a multi-part harmony. The style reminded Elina of an old cartoon called 'Betty', with its unique, half-sung, half-spoken rhythm that seemed to transcend time and echo in her ears once more.
Then each singer performed a solo piece, accompanied by the others in harmony. The lyrics mostly revolved around everyday woes—phrases like '"there's no place for me in this world"' were common.
After this mini choir exited, a new performer stepped onstage wearing an opera coat and gloves. He launched into a passionate aria:
'"Ah! perfido, spergiuro～"'
Elina was stunned. The costume and the song were so familiar—it reminded her of the ghostly opera singer from her 'Ghost Tour'.
"William, is that you?"
Of course, the real William was still acting as a shill in the Ghost Tour. This singer's vocal skills were clearly inferior; his notes often wandered, some soaring unnaturally high. Yet, the audience didn't boo him. That was surprising, considering earlier performers had been booed off the stage for lesser mistakes. The pressure must have been enormous.
While Elina was still unsure if she was imagining things, the host stepped up and began recounting the tragic life story of 'William Tris'—now this felt even stranger. She hadn't expected a minor character from the Ghost Tour to be turned into a music hall highlight.
Though it felt like someone was riding the Ghost Tour's coattails, Elina's main reaction was: '"This counts?!"'
If only she had let William sing one of her original songs, could she have snuck it into the music hall and earned the Music God's favor?
Unfortunately, Elina couldn't compose music, so that idea was dead on arrival.
As the show continued, she noticed something intriguing: each singer wore a costume that matched the theme of their song. The music reflected the persona: tenant and landlord, unfaithful spouse and fearful partner, drunkard and debt collector. One singer even dressed as a street urchin and performed a song called 'City Drifter'.
Could this be a unique performance style of the music hall—'theatrical singing'? It looked like singing, but it was actually a form of drama.
Perhaps at this time, music and theater were still closely intertwined, and singers naturally assumed dramatic personas while performing. This was good news for Elina—writing scripts was far easier for her than composing music.
At last, the star performer of the evening took the stage. She wore a pale blue evening gown.
"That's her! That's the singer I told you about!" the woman at the next table whispered.
She was clearly a star of the music hall. The moment she appeared, the audience erupted in applause—something Elina hadn't seen all evening. She couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation.
The star opened with 'My Love Is in the Gallery'.
'"The boy I love is in the gallery, watching over me～"'
Elina blinked in surprise. As mentioned earlier, the second-floor seating—wrapped around the hall like a corridor—was called "the gallery." So, was the song directed at the people sitting in the cheapest seats?
It was a clever touch—akin to a pop star pointing to fans and singing '"My love is in the crowd tonight."' The audience was thrilled, some likely wondering if they were the one being serenaded. (Or perhaps fearing that their sister-in-law was sitting among them.)
The melody was simple and catchy. The crowd sang along, and the entire hall filled with joyful energy.
The singer performed two more songs, one of which flirted with risqué lyrics: '"He kissed Mama and me, 'cause Papa wasn't home."' Thankfully, Janet didn't catch the innuendo and simply enjoyed the performance.
Unlike the other performers, this star had a radiant smile and a magnetic stage presence. She had clearly developed her own unique charm and style, no wonder everyone had been waiting for her.
After her final song, the curtain fell on the night's performances. In the carriage home, Janet couldn't stop chattering about everything she had seen. Elina nodded and smiled along, while Mrs. Campbell teased them,
"So, shall I bring you girls back next time?"
Janet nearly jumped with excitement, hugging her mother's arm and pleading for another trip. Elina seized the opportunity to add more requests:
"I want to visit the zoo, see the circus, and watch a play at the theater…"
Realizing how little she'd seen of the world, Elina's wish list grew longer and longer.
But Mrs. Campbell was quick to pour cold water on her enthusiasm.
"That depends on how you behave. If it weren't for Miss Susan's praise about your recent hard work, I wouldn't have brought you out at all."
Elina and Janet exchanged a quick glance and promised earnestly,
"Of course! We're always well-behaved!"
Elina, however, felt a twinge of guilt, thinking of the forbidden books locked away in her trunk.
Back at home, Janet was still humming '"The boy I love is in the gallery～"', while Elina sat quietly, organizing her thoughts. She began pondering how to use these popular performance styles to earn a bit of the Music God's favor.
Hmm… these costumed, character-driven performances reminded her of the musical films and Broadway shows of the future (Disney movies? Bollywood dramas?). Musical theater as we know it might not appear until the 20th century, but for now, operetta seemed to be in vogue. Either way, she needed an expert partner.
'Sigh… when is Father coming back…'