2023. 6. 3 Sat

The orchestra sways like wildflowers in the breeze of Sicilienne. The swaying is solidary and free. Then the storm came with César Franck but the flowers embraced. Pity how the moment it’s put down the image falls to become a metaphor. But still I sacrifice it just to remember how remarkable it felt.

The first profound transformation of sound (from a few instances with Barenboim) is serene and beautifully elastic. I want to be just ears and ears only. And I don’t want it to end.