At the Opera House, 2009
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Cobwebbed curtains open at the opera house, and someone has built a bonfire on stage. Behind the fire is the orchestra. I sit in the balcony, trying to listen to the orchestra play Mozart’s Ein Musikalischer Spass. But everyone around me is throwing spitballs or calling each other on cell phones.
There’s a war going on. People run down the sidewalks like wild dogs. Gunshots ring, “like fireworks,” someone behind me says into her phone, “if you close your eyes.”
I walk down the stairs to the conductor and ask him to crank up the volume.
He says he can’t do that. “If you can’t hear, move to another seat.”
I go back to the balcony. Now the rain is pounding on the roof. I look at the violinist and the cellist, trying to imagine what they sound like.
Links:
[1] https://www.ablemuse.com/v8/bio/nina-schuyler?s=6398a5fe31c1d1cf1ce971cfb1b8ba47
[2] https://www.ablemuse.com/v8/bio/peter-branson?s=6398a5fe31c1d1cf1ce971cfb1b8ba47