Must expand my culinary horizons past baby carrots and tofu blocks. (I made it a point to eat abundantly in the mountains, foreseeing precisely this possibility.) Fortunately the discount biscuit shops have stepped into the breach: $1.49 for five name-brand (i.e., not filler) granola protein bars. (Went back for a second box.)
Stopped into the Philharmonic jumbotron for Sibelius 2 last night. The notion seems to have progressed since i last was in these climes. Three rows of chairs, lobby mostly quiet. But the difference between European halls and US city halls is discomfiting sometimes. Less a cultural stasis for the music than an authoritarian controlled space for acting as one acts at a concert. In fairness, the toughs lurk in the shadows in both courts, ready to provide any social sanction thought necessary.
I had heard S2 many years ago here at an open rehearsal, and what the conductor (??) then brought out was just what I was missing here. These two melodies at the end, both the obvious one and the other one, have to appear like massive ships in the foggy night. Some inattention to that section in rehearsal, perhaps, as there seemed to be some rhythmic skittering underneath at those points, the quieter themes sounding more like fragments of radio transmissions in Arctic shipping than an underlying coherent logic. I'm an utter amateur, of course -- that's just the way it seemed when listening to a live feed piped into the lobby (and mixed a bit too far to the bass) underscored by the nearby cafe and the conversations of passerby.
Feast of Christ the King -- yes, he's at least that. Else, someone else might be. More and more I see these religious doctrines as attempts to identify and describe the immanent truth, no less true for that, but human words can't exhaust human experience. And yet, it us the only purchase we have on things.