In spite of missing 99% of its leaves, this amaryllis managed to push out one perfect blossom, just in time for Valentine's Day. (I photographed it in front of a jade plant to have a bit of green in the picture.) Whoever packed the bulb into its shipping box trimmed overenthusiastically, and I expected very little after planting.
It's a sunny morning, and I hope it stays that way. Yesterday began clear and almost warm, then the weather did a 180, and by the time I went out to check on the Sunday market, it was gray, damp and really cold. At the market, vendors huddled under quilts or blankets, hoping the sun would come out in time to attract more shoppers.
Mid-afternoon a friend and I attended the final performance of the Fauré Requiem, featuring the Symphony Chorale. For these performances, the guest conductor worked with a chamber-size instrumental ensemble featuring lower orchestral voices - viola, cello, bass, French horn, harp, plus the organ - and the 80-voice chorale maintained a vibrant, but appropriately pianissimo, tone quality throughout.
"There are only about 25 measures of double forte in this piece," said the Chorale director before the performance. Because the singers did the pianissimo and pianississimo sections so well, the few loud sections stood out as they were supposed to do.
The Fauré is the loveliest requiem I know, and I've had the good luck to sing it several times. Fauré himself called it "Death's lullaby" ("la berceuse de morte") and insisted on leaving out most of the more terrifying sections of the requiem mass. Whether listening or singing, I have never made it through the last section, "In Paradisium," without tearing up.
My friend heard the Requiem in a church in New York City, two weeks after 9/11.
"Not a dry eye in the house," she said. When the collection plate went around (the performance was a benefit for rescue workers) the big bills quickly piled up.
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