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11/22/2009 6:16:52 AM
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Bound, hungry to pluck again from the thousand technologies of ecstasy boundlessness, the world that at a drop of water rises without boundaries, I push the PLAY button:— ...Callas, Laurel & Hardy, Szigeti you are alive again,— the slow movement of K.218 once again no longer bland, merely pretty, nearly banal, as it is in all but Szigeti's hands * Therefore you and I and Mozart must thank the Twentieth Century, for it made you pattern, form whose infinite repeatability within matter defies matter— Malibran. Henry Irving. The young Joachim. They are lost, a mountain of newspaper clippings, become words not their own words. The art of the performer. Frank Bidart
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