When I was ten I was given a ticket to hear Myra Hess play three Mozart Piano Concertos with the Chicago Symphony. She did not play in time. That's all I remember. I would give my eyeteeth to hear that unacceptable performance again.

I recall a review in The New York Times of one of the greatest concerts I have ever heard, in which orchestra, conductor and piano soloist were faulted for essentially their mannerisms, their over-exuberance, their neurotic flair. I should not be surprised that the reviewer evokes the re-embodiment of my ten-year-old self.