Scenes from a concert hall last night. Sleet and snow and darkness outside. A small vending machine below stairs dispensed frothy coffee-water, and the young pianist (a friend of Mark's) fell on his instrument determined to pound it into the ground, it seemed. Afterward I had those reverberations in my chest that usually follow a rock concert. During the program, one of the chairs broke -- just quietly collapsed -- and then its (former) occupant calmly picked up the pieces, legs and seat and back, piled them to one side of the hall, and took another seat, very unobtrusively, as AK continued to batter the keyboard with tightly closed eyes and great feeling.
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