Tonight we will see the Lamb’s Player’s production of Dinner with Marlene.  It’s a play by Anne-Charlotte Harvey.  The play will take us to Paris where we’ll see Marlene Dietrich and other famous people at a dinner party a few days before the beginning of World War II.

Friday Margaret and I will go to hear the San Diego Symphony, and I will watch the flute section.  It’s an old habit that I don’t wish to break.  This week’s concert will include Schubert’s Symphony in B minor, D. 759: Unfinished and Strauss’ Don Quixote. 

The Flute

The flute in a concert hall or on a lonely hill

Makes the music that most exactly

Matches the creature who played it.

Can the silver pipe really have such a throat

That trills and runs and floats and calls

Up and down and around the mind?

No wonder the player’s eyebrows rise

When a note touches his heart.

How can his shoulders not bounce

When the call from his pipe recalls

Calling birds and running brooks?

And his head goes up and back

Affirming beauty and sorrow and life.

Flute music is exercise for the soul,

Food for the spirit,

Rest for the mind.

Saturday, March 24, 1990