for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
— Shakespeare
On Saturday night, rarely as I venture out “on the town,” I made a point of hitting The Lilypad in Cambridge to hear four bass clarinets (a quorum of a group dubbed Improbable Beasts) a saxophonist, trumpeter, pianist, bassist and drummer present a program mixing compositions as such with abandoned improv. It was an imaginative, powerful and energetic musical feast, largely driven by my clarinetist friend Todd Brunel.
I had been meaning for some little time to resume work on the never-truly-forgotten Opus 192, O singer, bashful and tender, I hear your notes. And the concert served as something of both push and catalyst. Thus over the past couple of days I have added some material. When I reached m. 125, I felt that what I had added was very close, and yesterday I had a go at modifying the passage. I’m not really certain about yesterday’s work, but shan’t be able to apply myself to it for a couple of days.
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