* Notes *
Yesterday evening the Philip Glass Ensemble played Music in Twelve Parts at Davies Hall. The vocalist, Lisa Bielawa, was unbelievable. The parts without her, 9 and 10, seemed inhuman and overly synthetic. The playing was, with the exception of Mr. Glass', very dexterous. Much stamina must have been required for the performance. Overall, the piece certainly has a hypnotic ethereality, but one could see how the pall of repetition could also inspire mere listlessness.
* Tattling *
Many of the people in the center terrace seemed bored, as if they were only there out of duty. Though easily ignored, there was much whispering, photograph-taking, and reading of mobile devices during the music.
I was late, not once, but twice. The will call line was utter chaos, and I barely slipped into the hall before the music started. Then I managed to be quite tardy after the dinner break. One could just blame a pernicious Belgian influence, though it is hardly fair.