voiceless.

i'm sick. and it stinks. it started with feeling feverish and a nasty headache. and rapidly developed into a chest cold until yesterday my throat felt like it was closing up so much that every swallow felt like i was forcing a spiked ball down my throat and i cough so much that i sound like any moment i'll hack up a lung. i've been sucking on ricola cough drops like they're going out of style. and i've finished off a bottle of nyquil and am approaching the bottom of my bottle of robitussin DM. last night i medicated myself, gargled some listerine (which actually seemed to help my throat), brushed my teeth and then coughed so hard i made myself throw up (TMI? maybe. but coughing so hard you throw up? that just sucks).

i hate the discomfort of being sick. but you know what i hate the most? losing my voice. i can't laugh--all i can do is hack out strange 'huh huh' sounds that j(wh) compares to butthead (of 'beavis and...'). which i'm sure sounds a bit insulting to people who don't realize i'm sick. and, worst of all, i can't sing. i skipped out on the messiah sing-along i was supposed to go to yesterday because even though i could have gone and enjoyed listening, it would have made me too sad to not be able to sing along. playing the piano for caroling quakers had me longing to sing as i played. so much that i actually tried, but all i could force out was a slightly cacophonous monotone version of silent night. and then i made the mistake of asking j(wh) to play regina spektor last night while i was grading and i just had to sing. i can't not sing when i listen to regina. so i did. in a rather husky, cracking tenor punctuated with hacking. i'm sure it wasn't pretty...

roadtrip.
on the weekend, i made a mad-dash roadtrip up the coast and back with friends. we drove. we talked. we laughed. we feasted. we listened to music. we magically arrived everywhere at exactly the right time. we witnessed everything from horrific to incredible live music. we browsed bookshops. in short, we had a perfect three days. the details:

1000 miles: the oc to l.a. up the grapevine and through the central valley to mountain view. to san jose and palo alto. into the city (the city being san francisco). across the bay bridge to berkeley. through oakland and back to san jose. down the 101 to san luis obispo. on to santa barbara. back to l.a. and home to the oc.

gastronomic hedonism: singaporean dinner at the spice islands cafe in mountain view. the roti prata was divine and everything else yummy. brunch at country gourmet in mountain view. pumpkin pancakes with cranberry syrup and ginger butter. french toast (made with cinnamon streusel bread) topped with banana, almonds, and caramel rum syrup. an omlette with bacon, cheese, tomatoes, and roasted tomatillo salsa with sour cream and avocado. it was a flurry of shared dishes and expressions of delight. i've never had a more delicious brunch. i'm already planning a girls trip to the bay area just so i can take my mom and sisters there. brunch at yank sing for dim sum. i'd never done dim sum before and it took all of two minutes for me to fall in love with it. probably because we started with soup dumplings (another first for me) which were amazing. everything else was delicious, too, but i'm determined to find somewhere in so.cal to get soup dumplings. yummy. and we capped off the culinary indulgence with fabulous mexican food at a shack with a tent attached in santa barbara. i loved its quirky blue and white structure and its three-car parking lot as soon as i saw it. and the food was amazing. i envision driving to santa barbara for dinner in the future. it's that good.

music: the reason for the trip was the bridge school benefit concert organized annually by neil and pegi young. eight artists in seven hours. regina spektor, tegan and sara, my morning jacket, john mayer, tom waits, neil young, jerry lee lewis, and metallica. that's right. i can now say i've seen metallica live--something i never aspired or hoped to say. but it's humorous. they were horrific. it was, however, entertaining to watch. both them and their fans, who were sorely disappointed (the metal-head next to us called out "come on, metallica! make it worth my money!" i think the rest of the line-up left him cold). jerry lee lewis looked stiff--like if he moved too much he'd keel over dead on the spot. but that didn't keep him from being a dirty old man. and his penchant for putting his name into his songs was endearingly humorous. in spite of his obviously advancing age, he was fun. i had to leave during john mayer, who elicits an almost viscerally disgusted reaction in me (even if he is a good guitarist). and tegan and sara were only okay. but i loved regina (who i'm seeing again on wednesday). it was fun to see neil young, who has this very low-key but compelling stage presence. my morning jacket was fantastic--i'll be listening to more of them in the near future. and tom waits stole the show. the man is brilliant--as a lyricist and a performer. and i took a secret pleasure in all the teeny-bopper (whether actual teenager or older) john mayer fans being forced to listen to him.

bibliophilia: a quick trip to green apple books in the only unclaimed twenty minutes we had in the city. a drive-by of city lights books en route to dim sum. and a detour off the 101 to visit leon's in san luis obispo. can you tell we were a carful of book nuts?

college tour: some of us went to visit stanford (not me; i went to the airport to pick up george). we took a quick walk around berkeley. and we did a drive-through of cal poly san luis obispo's campus (the other reason for our detour there). there was also a bit of pointing out various schools from the road. because the big dangerous and our scapegoat (he really is unnecessarily blamed for too much) are looking at college options.

it was a wonderful weekend. i didn't want it to end. i've spent my day dealing with the let-down, wishing i was still immersed in music and laughter and conversation and friendship (with an occasional argument), driving through california's beautiful valleys and along the coast with occasional stops at bookshops and eateries. but i suppose every day can't be so perfect. i'm glad i had the ones i did have--they make mundane daily living much easier to deal with.

synaesthesia.
last night was was an evening of nearly perfect sensory perception. first feasting on ethiopian food. and eating ethiopian feels like feasting, with the food served communally on a large platter and eaten with fingers. and i think yedoro wot is just about culinary divinity. and after eating our fill, it was ryan adams in concert at the wilshire. which was fantastic (in spite of a somewhat lackluster crowd).

i love ryan adams' music. he's an incredible songwriter and he has a gorgeous voice. last night he was on. two hours of incredible music. and he completely belied his reputation as something of a pompous ass. instead he was personable and funny. he sat on a stool with the band rather than taking center stage in a spotlight (except for the closing song 'goodnight hollywood boulevard'). and when he introduced the band, he ended by saying "we're the cardinals."

the thing that moved the concert into the realm of the magical for me was its color. the set opened with the stage glowing blue, ten or twelve lanterns suspended over the stage catching and intensifying the color created by the other lights. throughout the concert the colors shifted from blue to green to gold. red and pink. aqua and fuchsia. orange and purple. and the lanterns gleamed, reflecting the colors or casting their own. about halfway through the concert, when the whole theater seemed infused with orange light, i knew that this was the closest i'd ever been--and may ever be--to synaesthesia.

ephemeral.
last night i made my first trip of the summer to the hollywood bowl (first and hopefully not last, since the bowl will be hosting a variety of interesting artists this summer). and what a fantastic line-up. the evening started with band of horses, whose performance made me want to go home and listen more. i started listening to them a few months ago and liked their album, but i've been a little obsessed with wilco and arcade fire this spring, so everyone else has gotten short shrift. their live performance underscored their music's lyricism--a lyricism that is beautiful and soulful without being self-indulgent. and left me anticipating their new album (i think they said it's due out in october).

they were followed up by andrew bird with his fantastic whistling abilities. i suppose anyone who can whistle has fantastic abilities compared to me (can't whistle to save my life), but he can whistle a tune while accompanying himself on guitar or violin or glockenspiel. which seems pretty fantastic to me. but his fantastic ability isn't limited to whistling and playing. his lyrics are fanciful, full of understated magic. and his performance, with a crazy contraption that looked like two old-school phonograph trumpets attached to each other whirling around behind him, reinforced that magic. i'm not sure exactly what the contraption did to the sound, but i'm sure it was there for more than visual effect...

the headliners last night, and the reason we went (though band of horses and andrew bird added to the appeal), were the decemberists. they played with the l.a. phil. which was interesting. i'd not seen a rock band play with a philharmonic before. i liked it. there were moments when the sound was a bit out of balance. but the decemberists' music is so vibrantly orchestral that having all those horns and a harp and strings behind them didn't detract from the music at all. the orchestra, the beautiful summer night, the music, and the band all combined to make for a magical night.

no small part of that magic was due to their singer, colin meloy, who is a pure delight. his performance had me laughing--that laughter that must be let out because you've seen something so beautiful that you can't keep it inside. his exuberance was infectious. his antics during the encore--a jaunt around the semicircle wall in front of the stage complete with mimed guitar solo played in tandem with chris funk, asking the crowd to indulge him by waving their cell phones--had the crowd begging for more.

as we walked out last night, down the long hill to find our bus back to the car, i felt at complete peace with the world. there's something so beautifully human about music--about thousands of people gathering, singing, cheering for something as ephemeral as a song. a celebration of being. i don't ever want to go without it again.

infiltrated.
four years ago when i started my phd program, i couldn't listen to music and work. anything other than classical music distracted me. it got in my head. made me want to listen to the words, which kept me from capturing the words i was reading. its beat became an incessant, demanding irritant that made it nearly impossible to concentrate.

and now--now i can't imagine working without music. i'm sitting in the library grading papers right now. listening to the brazilian girls. and as i was typing a comment on the last paper i graded, i realized i was typing in time to the music. which made me realize the extent to which music has infiltrated my life. it's rhythms and language and energy coloring my world in ways music never has before. i'll never know it the way some of my friends do. i'll always carry with me the near-silence of my childhood and teen years (no television til i was 14; no real radio listening til i was 16). but that silence shapes and informs my listening as much as my friends' knowledge shapes theirs, and not just in negative ways.

thanks go to my friends (you know who you are) who have pushed me (gently and sometimes not so gently) towards infusing my life with music. i find myself dancing often. sometimes just inside. sometimes literally. and the old men in the library can look at me funny all they want as i do so, sitting in my chair bopping to the music while i work. at least i'm not giving in to the compulsion to sing out loud...

communion.
tonight, while at the greek theater for the arcade fire concert (second time in about a month), i was looking around at the trees and the people and the sky and i was struck by the magic of people coming together for no reason other than to celebrate life through music. outdoor concerts do that to me. one time some friends and i went to a concert in central park. and as we walked away from the park afterwards, i felt awed by the community i had just experienced. thousands of people brought together by the beauty of a summer night and the brilliance of human creativity. and tonight, for a moment, i experienced that awe again.

the concert tonight wasn't quite what last month's concert in san diego was. according to seymour, you only get a spectacular show when you have a great band, a special venue, a fantastic audience, and a little something extra. and we definitely had that in san diego. tonight's crowd was a bit lackluster. and the sound wasn't loud enough (in large part due to the outdoor venue, i'm sure). but i still felt that magic of people celebrating life through music. and when regine sang 'in the backseat,' it took me back to that gorgeous night in england when i sat in the backseat of a taxi from the middle of nowhere to beverley. my friend becca sat in the front seat and was obliged to talk to the driver; i sat in the back seat and lost myself in the peace of the english countryside and the beauty of a starry night.

outraged.
today, the beatles--and my ears--were violated. i was on my way to church. and i tuned into klos to find 'mean mr. mustard' from abbey road playing. it's a song that starts a trio of songs that i love. when the trio ended, i begged the radio gods to give me more beatles. and they complied. 'golden slumbers.' 'carry that weight.' and 'the end.' i was singing along, loving my beatles, and then--right before it got to the gorgeous final line of 'the end'--it stopped.

just stopped.

i was left hanging with no resolution. and why? cause the morons running the station today thought it would be a clever way to lead up to paul mccartney's new single, 'ever present past.' it didn't work. and, while i'm sure sir paul's music is lovely and all that, clever disc jockeying is not a sufficient justification to violate the beatles.

as soon as i got to the church, i pulled out my ipod and rectified the situation by listening to the last seven songs of abbey road in full. thank heavens for ipods.

awake.
that's how i still feel more than 24 hours after the arcade fire concert ended. i went down to san diego yesterday with friends to see their show. and i was looking forward to it. but i really had no idea what i was in for. i was actually a little worried i'd be too tired to enjoy it, as i'd only slept about four hours the night before. and the opening act (though not bad) left me uninspired.

but that ended quickly--very quickly--as soon as the arcade fire took the stage. the first song had me moving. and by the end of the second, i had developed a crush on win butler, their lead singer. i spent the rest of the evening singing along and dancing. along with the rest of the crowd.

that theater last night was pulsing with life--with the reciprocity between artists and audience that makes possible not only art, but also being. a lot of that life came from the performers. win's larger than life stage presence. regine's magnetic persona. everyone of them with their obvious enthusiasm for the music they were making. and the constant motion. dancing. trading instruments with each other not only between songs, but occasionally during a song. it was incredible.

i think the thing i'm most amazed by is the tension between disillusionment and hope i find in their music. there's an exuberance in the collective...i don't know what to call it...humming? oo-ing? whatever it is, it's exuberant. and the 'hey' that punctuates 'no cars go' is overflowing with enthusiasm. the lush fullness of their sound, with all the many instruments they play, fills me up more than almost any other rock music. but there's the darkness of 'ocean of noise' with it's 'ocean of violence between you and me' and it's disavowal of choice. and 'my body is a cage' with its disgust for our 'age that calls darkness light.' but somehow, for me, the hope is what stays. maybe it's that the problems are recognized and named. that the false religiosity and the destructiveness of self-righteousness are revealed. and in their place there's an insistence that 'friendship and love' must have a home and that 'my mind holds the key.'

if you don't know their music, you should. and if you have the chance to see them live, you should.

after the concert ended, we waited around for a while--hoping they would come out and play for a bit in the lobby (as we've heard they do with some regularity). they didn't. and eventually we crossed the street to 7-11 for some drinks and were heading back to the car when we found the three trucks queued up to take their gear off to their next gig. and we decided we'd wait around a bit longer to see if the band came out that way. they did. and we met win. who was super nice and who signed our tickets (the crush lives on).


and now--now i just need to see them again. because last night i went home feeling awake and alive. and that has stayed with me all day today. a hum of energy beneath everything i do.

homage.
in the last week, i've found two or three references to a recent article about world-renowned violinist joshua bell busking in a washington, d.c. metro station. tonight i took a break and read the original article.

it was a stunt. have the best violinist in the nation (one who is paid up to $1000/minute) stand in a busy metro station during rush hour playing difficult and beautiful music on a $3.5 million stradivarius and see just how many people stop. or even notice. when consulted, the music director of the national symphony orchestra surmised that 70-100 people would stop (a small crowd) and 40 or so may know the quality of what they heard. the reality? 27 gave money (a total of $32.17). only 7 stopped to listen. two or three knew the quality of what they heard. and one recognized bell (who is highly recognizable, as he's something of a classical music heartthrob).

the article is beautifully written and well worth the time it takes to read. the accompanying video clips are interesting to watch. as i read, and watched, i longed to have been there. to have discovered that kind of music being played in a metro station. would i have stopped? i don't know. it wouldn't have been the first time, as i often stopped to listen to buskers in both london and boston. and i probably would have dropped some cash into his case before i went on my way. but i know myself. and i know i can get caught up in the stress and busy-ness of life and, while i'm positive i would have noticed, i may have hurried through without much pause.

the article's questions about context and framing in relationship to beauty are of great interest to me. i've been thinking about those questions for a long time. and some of my favorite intellectual arguments with friends have arisen in response to those questions. i'll never forget the day that started with a conversation about the relationship between context and art/beauty on a bus to stratford upon avon and ended with the most incredible adaptation of 12th night. it was one of those days that stays with you for years, reverberating with thought and laughter and beauty. i enjoyed the article because of its subject and its questioning.

but the thing that made me stop as i was reading was john picarello's reaction. a fan of joshua bell (though he didn't recognize him), picarello came off the escalator, heard the music and immediately stopped. he spent nearly ten minutes standing in l'enfant plaza engrossed in the music. having trained as a violinist as a child and teenager, with the aspiration of becoming a professional musician, he recognized the perfection of the playing and the quality of the instrument. he called it "a treat, just a brilliant, incredible way to start the day." he was bewildered by the fact that no one else seemed to recognize what was happening.

this is what really made me stop and notice picarello:

"When he left, Picarello says, 'I humbly threw in $5.' It was humble: You can actually see that on the video. Picarello walks up, barely looking at Bell, and tosses in the money. Then, as if embarrassed, he quickly walks away from the man he once wanted to be."

here was a man who loves music. who once aspired to be what joshua bell is, and who is now a supervisor at the u.s. postal service because he knew he didn't have the ability to make it as a concert violinist. but he still knew the beauty of what he heard and acknowledged it. this response resonated with me. because i often feel this way in my own work. i love the literature i teach. it's magical. because it's not just stories, words conveying set meanings. it's infinitely complex--always greater than the sum of its parts. the work i do--writing about literature; teaching literature--is a form of homage. a humble acknowledgement of beauty and wisdom and raw humanity of a kind i know is beyond my ability to produce.

found.
more treasures.

indulge.

• chocolate. there are many reasons randi is my best friend. this week, she confirmed several of them by sending me a box of assorted chocolates from l'artisan du chocolate, a london-based chocolatier. a small box full of twenty assorted chocolates. some pure chocolate ganaches made from cocao beans grown in different areas of the world. some ganaches infused with spices, herbs, flowers, or fruites. all delicious. if you like chocolate, really like chocolate, you should indulge sometime.

salad.

• chicken. i'm not a big one for chicken salad. never have been. but about four years ago, my two sisters, my mom and i went on our first girl trip--a driving tour of new england. we spent a night in portsmouth, new hampshire, before driving up the coast into main. in portsmouth, we discovered a little deli called bell pepper at which we found a chicken gorgonzola salad. it was so good that as we drove back south to boston, we pulled off the road in portsmouth to stop and buy it again. chicken, penne pasta, gorgonzola, celery, walnuts, red grapes, onion (red or green), and a blue cheesy dressing. it's delicious. my mama made it this week (we improvise based on the list of ingredients the guy gave us when we bought it the second time) and i rediscovered exactly how lovely it is.

listen.

• haley bonar. i downloaded her album "...the size of planets" and have fallen in love with it. a bit folksy, a bit alternative. gorgeous voice. if you want women singer-songwriters, some others i've recently discovered (although not this week) include nina nastasia, regina spektor, deb talan, ida, hem, and jenny lewis. some of them use male vocals, too, but they're all driven by women. and check out the innocence mission. good stuff that.
• faith. on the radio. NPR to be exact. i've been listening to speaking of faith for a long time. today's program was interesting--an interview with paraplegic matthew sanford who has become an expert yoga instructor and author. all about the mind-body connection. the show takes widely varied approaches to faith and features an impressive group of religious and philosophical personalities. it's worth a listen. on kpcc 89.3 at 4:00 on sunday afternoons.
  

shoulds.
this week's discoveries and recommendations.

eat.

• philippe's. the home of the original french dip sandwich, which was, according to legend, discovered accidentally one day when a sandwich was dropped in the drippings from the roast but the customer was in such a hurry that he ate it anyway. and then returned and ordered it the same way. it was good. but not outstanding in terms of food. i prefer dipping my own sandwich rather than having them dip it for me, which resulted in a sogginess that messed with my textures sensitivity. however, the experience was worth it since i was alread in the neighborhood (union station, olivera street, disney hall, etc., etc.). next time i'm in the neighborhood, i think i'll go with the lamb incarnation (which i was advised to do and didn't; i had to try the beef first). get the potato salad on the side.

sound.

• mahler. i told you last week you should go to this concernt. i did. last night with my mama. and it was every bit as incredible as i thought it would be. and then some. the third is a gorgeous, lush, formally unconventional symphony that celebrates love and joy's capacity to defeat suffering. everyone should see it performed. mahler is a genius. his third counts for this week's re-discovery.
  

site.

• gehry. specifically the walt disney concert hall. i'd been to the building twice--once to a film festival and once to explore the roof garden. i've always loved the exterior of the building and all of gehry's work. his buildings feel alive to me, an exquisite melding of movement and stasis in a building that demands to be called scuplture as well as a building. but i'd never seen the concert hall. it's as vibrant as the building, with curvaceous, warm wooden ceiling and walls, and a perfect twilight blue light. not to mention the exploding facade of the pipe organ. don't miss it.

grace.

• love. a scripture chain for you. because following it gave me peace this week. start in romans 8. a lovely chapter. specifically verses 28 and 37-39. some cross references about what it means to love god, as mentioned in verse 28. Ezra 8:22, in which seek takes the place of love; Alma 36:3 in which trust takes the place of love; D&C 90:24 in which search, pray, believe, walk uprightly, and remember the covenant take the place of love. after thinking through this, verse 39 of Romans 8 got me thinking about what could separate us from god, which took me to D&C 124:33 in which i discovered that we are separated from god when we "hinder the almighty from pouring down knowledge from heaven." i loved that idea--that god's love takes the shape of knowledge. thoughts?

forecast.

• classical. because you really should take advantage of the LA phil and disney hall. this week they're doing mozart's requiem and stravinsky's symphony of psalms (which uses the text from psalms 39, 40, and 150). i'm sure it will be brilliant.

discovered.
at the prompting of friends, i decided it's time to start sharing the discoveries i make. they'll take all kinds of shapes and forms. dining. sweets. books. music. art. you name it, if it's good or interesting or scrumptious or lovely, i'll try to share it. so each week, check in and see what i've discovered in the last seven days. and for good measure i'll occasionally throw in something i've discovered a while ago and continue to enjoy.

indulge.

• sprinkles. the most ridiculous concept in sweet goods ever. a store that sells cupcakes. that's it. cupcakes for you. cupcakes for your dog. and shots of frosting. for those of us who don't like cupcakes but do like frosting. it's also ridiculously overpriced--$3.25 for a single cupcake. that didn't stop my friends and i from buying half a dozen to sample. i recommend the funkier varieties--pumpkin with cinnamon frosting, chai with chai frosting, ginger with lemon cream cheese frosting. you can pass on the basics--chocolate and vanilla in all of their varieties. i make better basics at home. if you must have a chocolate one, get the red velvet.
• chocolate. so i did a chocolate night with friends this week. we sampled a pound of see's candies, five different chocolate bars, and three varieties of chocolate ice cream. the discovery was lindt's white chocolate coconut bar. it was tasty. hands down the best white chocolate i've ever tasted. it was so good, in fact, that a friend who likes neither white chocolate nor coconut liked it best of the bars available that night. and if you're up for something a bit trippy, try a nice dark chocolate with either peppercorn or chili pepper.
  

relax.

• kean. i'm always on the lookout for a new cafe. and my standards are rather high. i want not only excellent hot cocoa (something that is nearly impossible to find), some herbal tea options, and decent snacks, but also a relaxing environment. somewhere i can sit and study for hours. i found a lovely new alternative this week. kean. at the intersection of irvine and 17th street at the edge of costa mesa and newport beach. they not only have your standard hot cocoa, but also mayan spiced and mexican spiced hot cocoa. and they not only have herbal teas, but also herbal iced tea (something i've never found before, though i've often wanted it) and herbal chai (another rarety). and they make italian cream sodas. pair it with tasty food and the sustenance side of the equation is met. on top of it all, they have a lovely atmosphere complete with comfy chairs, friendly employees, and live music in the evening on the weekends. and they give their coffee grounds to customers to use as fertilizer. goodness in all its possible cafe forms. for you coffee drinkers out there, i'm sure their coffee is as good as it gets. and it's an independent. long live the independent coffee house.

read.

• dickens. so i was browsing barnes & noble last night (a pasttime for me; i just can't walk through those doors without committing myself to a perusal of the bargains). i had gone in to buy sibelius' 5th symphony (which is gorgeous) for my dad for his birthday and on my way out i made my obligatory stop by the bargain shelves. only to discover beautiful hardbound reprints of the nonesuch series of dickens novels. nonesuch was a press active during the early half of the 20th century. they printed hardbound copies of literature that attempted to combine the quality of a fine press and the affordability of a mass market printer. these use dickens' final text and the illustrations he chose himself to accompany his novels. the original set included 24 books. i only purchased 4 and i don't know how many B&N is selling, but they're only $6.98 each.
  

eat.

• thai. thai nakorn, to be exact. on garden grove boulevard between harbor and fairview. go. you won't regret it. it's worth the drive down harbor to eat this incredibly delicious food. and it's not expensive. i have far too many favorites to list them all, but some suggestions: beef panang curry(i have never, ever, even at ruth's chris steak house, had beef this tender; it practically melts in your mouth), barbequed catfish (incredible fish, amazing sauce), pad thai (the best i've eaten anywhere), beef with chili and basil. if there's a thai dish you want, they probably have it. and if it's not on the menu, they'll probably make it for you anyway. for dessert try the sweet sticky rice with mango, the coconut ice cream, the coconut custard (cooked in the coconut), or the fried banana. or you could be weird like me and get the coconut ice cream served on top of the sweet sticky rice. it makes me hungry just thinking about all of this deliciousness. do yourself a favor and go. right now if possible.

forecast.

• disney hall. to experience mahler's third. this friday, saturday, and sunday. not only is this the most gorgeous venue, anywhere, this symphony is an amazing experience. the first movement is longer than the entirety of beethoven's 5th. the work as a whole embodies all of creation, from the beginning to the angels. it uses not only an immense orchestra (nine double basses; there aren't many composers who call for that many double basses), but also a mezzo-soprano soloist, a women's chorus, and a boys' chorus. exquisitely passionate. if you get the chance go. if you're a student, you can try for a $10 rush ticket beginning two hours before the performance.