I’m on #2 daughter’s laptop this morning, trying to be quiet and not wake anyone. When I wake in a strange place, I just want to get up and find a cup of tea, which I have been able to do, and then I can wait patiently for the other people, who never get up as early as I do. If there is a computer handy, I can amuse myself for a little while.
Not that I got up all that early today. We went to the symphony last night. The drive up was uneventful, and I said as much to M. Bassoon when he asked.
“She’s not telling you why it was uneventful for her,” said #2 son, the rotter. “It’s because she sat in the back reading, and never looked out the windows.”
This is true. It’s a good method. If money were no object, I could recommend darkened windows and a driver to anyone with my condition. It only works in daily life when there is someone to drive and someone to sit by the driver, though, because otherwise it just seems rude.
We were standing in a parking lot when we had that conversation.We had listened to a lovely Haydn piece, a dramatic Berg one, and then some Wagner, and Wagner was always very grand. Still is, for that matter.
The usher who seated us (we needed help because we were up in the rafters where the sound hangs out, and they sold us a ticket for a seat that didn’t exist. They adjust the numbers for the shrinking of the rows, and one of our seats disappeared in the process.) muttered something about people not caring to hear Wagner on a Friday night, as though perhaps Friday night was too low-key for Wagner. You’d really want to save it for Saturday, maybe?
I don’t know. It was a set of excerpts from The Ring, and the soprano was really something. She had a glittering band under her bosom, and it rose about six inches on the high notes, an indication of the athleticism of singing that stuff. The part of Brunhilde is not easy to sing, and it is not easy to sing as one of a hundred or so instruments in an orchestra, especially if they are playing Wagner at the time. She got a standing ovation, and deserved it, too.
The conductor, a visiting one from Israel, was a pleasure to watch. He conducted with his whole body, and on the Haydn without bothering with the score at all. I thought that the Haydn in particular was done with such delicacy and sweetness that M. Bassoon would surely be satisfied with the performance, but apprently not.
I know myself that performers do not hear the same thing that the audience does, and are less likely to be happy with the performance, but really it was beautifully played.
I said so to M. Bassoon, and he told me that it wasn’t the playing so much as the silences that were the problem.
“Drat that fourth dimension,” I commiserated.
It was lovely, though. And I bet the horns were so excited about getting to play Wagner. Everybody is important in Wagner, of course, but you can tell he really loved horns.
It is possible that I have been reading too much about quantum mechanics. And maybe spending too much time on computers, too. Last night, I dreamt that everything  I dreamt would be real unless I selected “dream” before dreaming it. In consequence, and what with not having a “dream” key handy, I didn’t sleep very well. I am going to see if I can score another cuppa.