Alex Ross' recent article on American opera ends with this about Ned Rorem and Elliott Carter:
In their late operas, they are seeing humanity with almost the same eyes, as a frantic dance to a misheard tune.
And Drunken Volcano provides the haiku synopsis of that article (along with haikus for everything else in the New Yorker as well):
New operas work
Where alluring music meets
Comfortless worldview.
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