Notes & Asides

I have said about myself, and repeat it here, that living in New York, or having easy access to it, can reproachfully grate on you. There are those so inattentive to the resources of the city that we live as if at the Grand Canyon with the shutters always closed.

I haven’t counted, but there must be 100 musical events every day in NYC, and if you add dance and visual exhibits, make that 500. I write of a minor affair on March 2nd, the kind of thing that can just happen in Manhattan, in this case under unusual auspices because the impresario was celebrating his own 30th birthday. The modest, affable, gifted man had come to town eight or ten years ago from Minnesota, attracted to a career as a performing pianist. But he yielded (perforce?) to the usual stresses, and is now about to enter business school.

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I have said about myself, and repeat it here, that living in New York, or having easy access to it, can reproachfully grate on you. There are those so inattentive to the resources of the city that we live as if at the Grand Canyon with the shutters always closed.

I haven’t counted, but there must be 100 musical events every day in NYC, and if you add dance and visual exhibits, make that 500. I write of a minor affair on March 2nd, the kind of thing that can just happen in Manhattan, in this case under unusual auspices because the impresario was celebrating his own 30th birthday. The modest, affable, gifted man had come to town eight or ten years ago from Minnesota, attracted to a career as a performing pianist. But he yielded (perforce?) to the usual stresses, and is now about to enter business school.