The programme I watched about Edward Elgar the other night
featured an interview with a Venezuelan woman conductor. I took her to my heart
when she said that the crescendo in Elgar’s Nimrod
still moves her to tears. Me, too, even at the hundredth hearing.
Nice moment.
I don’t know why I’m posting this. I feel like a soap bubble
– empty and about to go the way of all soap bubbles.
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