Mozart's Dressing Room
This is my dressing room. Did you not see my name on the door?
Yes, I am looking at you through the mirror and not just through a screen.
You are not my usual make-up artist. You are not even my usual wig dresser. Who are you? Where is everyone?
Are you supposed to be performing on the world stage over the next few days?
I do not recall seeing you at the auditions. You most definitely were not at the rehearsals.
Do you like my jacket? I hope I will not feel too hot in this costume, or too cold. As you may have noticed, my elegant, lilac cravat does not quite match the green and yellow polka dot boardshorts I am wearing, though that is my fault. I keep forgetting that I am not supposed to rehearse an orchestra and drink red wine at the same time. And I usually prefer a minuet to a polka.
Do you have a tendency to spill things on your best breeches?
Are you currently sober?
How do you usually deal with stage fright?
Have you never performed in dialogues of enlightenment?