In honor of the great man’s birth on the banks of the Avon 443 years ago, I’d like to report that a friend of mine recently told me that if you google “reverberate hills” your first option is not Twelfth Night but me. Damn! I should have named the blog To Be or Not to Be and really shown up that Stratford bitch.
I’m now off to Los Angeles for the first time in many years to take in The Tristan Project and shiny new Disney Hall, then back by Thursday to hear Faust damned at the symphony, capping it all off with some wry but poignant observations from David Sedaris in Berkeley on Friday.
2 comments:
I hope your head doesn't explode a la "Scanners" from so much Culture in such a compressed amount of time.
I went to the San Francisco Symphony last week and Charles Dutoit was a kick. He looks like Central Casting for a dignified old conductor, very much late Charles Boyer, and he really had the orchestra singing, in a Beethoven piano concerto of all things. I can't wait for "The Damnation of Faust" on Sunday.
No head exploding here, at least from culture; this was actually a fairly typical week except for the travel. I do get tired of going out and being out late and dealing with BART and audiences, but last time I thought I was "tired of culture" I realized I would have spent the evening reading Stendhal and listening to my new Messiaen discs. But at least I would have been home.
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