You know, a piano performance of Bach’s The Goldberg Variations can range from 39 minutes to 92 minutes depending on whether all the repeats are played. Some pianists have skipped the repeats to make them fit onto a recording or because they’re, well, repeats. We cautiously mention this while being fully aware of the risk of inadvertently prompting New York City Ballet to suddenly decide, “Oh gosh, let’s add a See the Music session on The Goldberg Variations program” in order to make the audience truly appreciate all the repetitions that they are hearing and seeing on the stage. Repeating the repetitions repeatedly is not the way to the New York City Ballet audience’s heart. We’ll try not to repeat that.

Thursday evening’s performance of Robbins’ The Goldberg Variations and Balanchine’s Tschaikovsky Suite No. 3 had some good moments, most of which came after the intermission. Goldberg’s highlight, besides the committed and lovely piano playing by guest artist William Wolfram, was the vivacious dancing of Ashley Hod with Jules Mabie and a surprisingly gallant and maturing Andres Zuniga with Emma Von Enck. They with the others skedaddled around, paused for long looks into someone’s eyes, and then meandered off only to return later to essentially the same music. There were points in the ballet where it seemed Robbins’ was saying “Oh heck, if Bach can repeat himself then so can I” and then we would see something that reminded us of Afternoon of a Faun or Fancy Free or Interplay or Dances at a Gathering.

The evening caught a big breath of fresh air when Tschaikovsky Suite No. 3 began. Emily Kikta and Peter Walker danced the Elegie gloriously, but we’re not sold on them dancing together; their physicality is very different and not well balanced. When is the day going to come when we see Emily joined by the huge and hugely elegant Owen Flacke for a spin around the stage? Listen, Flacke and Charlie Klesa were dancing like there was no tomorrow in the demis section of Theme and Variations. At one point, they took our eyes away from the principals. 

The highlight of the evening was Ashley Laracey with Alec Knight in the second movement Valse Melancolique. There is such unique and compelling beauty in Ashley’s musicality and dramatic shading along with crystal clear work by the legs and feet that it is baffling why NYCB doesn’t grant this long-time soloist the respect and recognition that she deserves. Worth repeating: It is never too late to do the right thing.

India Bradley and KJ Takahashi flew through the Scherzo section without making much of an impression. While Takahashi may fit well into Justin Peck’s repertory, he doesn’t particularly please in other ballets because he tends to dance them like they are Justin Peck sneaker ballets. There is high energy and fierce allegro but no lines, no drama, no elegance, no personality, no legs. India was lovely on her first entrance but then struggled with some of the trickier turns. She danced with her chin and head up but her eyes focused down much of the time.

Theme and Variations performed by Tiler Peck and Roman Mejia with demi-soloist roles danced by senior corps & soloists kicked a good amount of life into the evening. The tempi may not have challenged Tiler enough to bring out her spectacular brand of chase, but she certainly was no slouch. It just looked a little too comfortable and easy for her. The clarity and phrase shaping was amazing as was her rapport with Roman who we have to accept is never going to express elegance & chivalry when there’s an opportunity to strut. That said, the relaxed tempi was such that there was more than enough time in the pirouette/double tour series for him to attempt double pirouette/double tour, but he played it safe and delivered a steady, clear ending to the variation. His caring and careful partnering made us appreciate another side of him.

If the order of this program had been reversed, we would have bought tickets to every performance throughout the week and left at intermission. As it is, we’re only going to see one cast. NYCB should re-think its programing strategy, if there is one, so that it encourages people to come instead of repelling them.

Our H.H. Pump Bump Award, Venus by Badgley Mischka, is bestowed upon Ashley Laracey for her defining performance in Valse Melancolique.

It’s hard to remember when we last wrote that the best thing on the New York City Ballet’s repertory program was a ballet by Peter Martins, but Thursday night was one of those times. The program underscored NYCB’s current dilemma which is reconciling what the audience wants to see with the unpopular selections curated by Wendy Whelan and the self-promoting influence of Justin Peck. Ticket-buying core audience members are being driven away by the mediocrity being ladled over the company’s strong brand ballets. 

There was that time when Jerome Robbins decided to move on from trying to co-direct NYCB and allow Martins to do his job. We are there again; Whelan and Peck need to move on and stop interfering with the company’s programing of Balanchine’s greatest masterpieces in favor of the mostly junk like what was on the bill Thursday night.

The only choreographic highlight of Thursday night’s show was Zakouski, an offering of musical and dance hors d’oeuvres that Peter Martins created in 1992 for Margaret Tracy and Nikolaj Hübbe. The music chosen for the ballet came from the last quarter of the 19th century and the first quarter of the 20th — a compilation of Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky, Prokofiev, and Tschaikovsky, the last three composers dear to Balanchine’s heart — and was played passionately from the orchestra pit by violinist Kurt Nikkanen and pianist Hanna Hyunjung Kim. 

The costumes by Barbara Matera seemed to be full of message, but what message? Joseph Gordon was wrapped in lovely plum while Megan Fairchild tried her best to wear the ostentatious fiery orange-red ruffled skirt thingy with strange sequin placement. She & ostentatious just don’t get along, never have; no worries, she always wins out anyway. 

The choreography itself is a curious mix of passionate response to the music and analytical WWGBD, but it works. Transitioning from Rachmaninoff’s Volcalise right into Stravinsky’s Parasha’s Song requires some fancy footwork which Gordon possessed abundantly. On display was his inheritance of Martins’ contrasting weight-deep-into-the-ground that launched into sharply-sliced allegro. Then he added to it his own confidence and “let me show you this” enthusiasm. Fairchild’s feet and legs were humming along, bravely jumping up and down on pointe until they weren’t. Splat. But it was a great belly splat, right on her mark in the middle of the stage. Seemingly she was unhurt and moved through the rest of the choreography without hesitation or loss of focus giving it a stylish and warm treatment. The choreography for the woman is perplexing in that it initially looks like it was made for an adagio dancer with long limbs; then it seems to evolve into allegro for a shorter athletic dancer. In thinking back, Margaret Tracey was that type of dancer—able to master a mesmerizing, elongated Afternoon of a Faun and also ring the heck out of Liberty Bell.

Also on this bill was Gianna Reisen’s Signs, an embarrassing effort at replicating Twyla Tharp’s style to Philip Glass music reminiscent of Tharp’s In the Upper Room and other dances. Sappy, unimaginative, derivative, cliched —  it bleated, “Please reward me for trying.” On NYCB’s stage, no choreographer gets rewarded just for trying. Either the work is great or it shouldn’t be there—let alone be there over and over again. Jeeze Louise, enuff already with this student showcase stuff.

Red Angels was totally watchable because of the strong casting of Mira Nadon, Taylor Stanley, Ashley Hod, and Jules Mabie. The casting sheet indicated that this was a debut for everyone but Nadon. However, we seem to recall watching Ashley Hod rip through this ballet with her fierce, seductive, razor sharp dancing at a summer BAAND Together performance in 2022 along with Davide Riccardo, Emilie Gerrity, and Peter Walker who were formally representing NYCB. Again Thursday night, she thrilled with her intensity which complemented Nadon’s burning heat and glamour, and melded with Jules Mabie like it had not occurred to us would happen. Taylor Stanley possessed the lithe limb and torso wriggle that is the mark of this Ulysses Dove dance. He scorched it in his own humble and modest way.

The company premiere of Justin Peck’s Heatscape was mostly difficult to sit through. Peck’s penchant for using other choreographer’s ideas to pump up his choreography is well-known. In this instance, the music by Bohuslav Martinů (Concerto No. 1 for Piano and Orchestra) generally pre-dates the Shostakovich concertos that Ratmansky has favored in many of his ballets but has a similar racing quality. Peck’s choreography clearly aims to be a knock-off of Ratmansky’s Concerto DHCR, Piano Concerto No. 1 and Namouna while claiming originality with cliches like a line of dancers running forward toward the audience. It’s hyper-kinetic while also being monotonous — some kind of achievement, we guess.

The costumes by Reid and Harriet were, of course, not stage worthy. Men in short legged boxer type 1950’s white tennis shorts and muscle shirts; the women in short tennis shifts. The temptation is to say that the costumes could not have been less appealing, but we know with Reid and Harriet ballet designs there’s never a lowest point; it can always get worse. The art design by Shepard Fairey featured a faded print of a red sun with star-face in the middle which we’ll swear we’ve seen on tee-shirts at Old Navy. 

NYCB is spending an extraordinary $378K on Justin Peck for his “advice” and choreography. His effect on NYCB has been to lower the quality of what goes on its stage. That $378K could be better used to add a few Balanchine blockbusters to the fall season which was sorely lacking this year. In summary, the fall season in terms of repertory sucked mostly, and we’re glad it’s on its way out.

But let’s end on a positive note. Our H.H. Pump Bump Award, a Dolce & Gabbana red original from the old days, is bestowed upon Ashley Hod in Red Angels who continues to dance at a high principal level even without the appropriate recognition from management. 

It is almost as though New York City Ballet is trying to use trickling Balanchine programing to falsely strengthen the river-flow of mostly sub-par contemporary programing that it wants to wash over the audience. Where are the big ballets? Serenade, Jewels, Symphony in C, Stravinsky Violin Concerto, Four Temperaments, Mozartiana, Slaughter, Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No 2? 

New York City Ballet can no longer claim that it has the best Balanchine dancers in the world. The world is now full of them and full of dancers who are so good that only a handful of self-proclaimed experts can see stylistic differences. Now, more than ever, New York City Ballet must shore up its foundational masterpieces and rely upon them while it searches for choreographic accoutrements for its repertory. There will never be another Balanchine. There will never be another Chagall. There will never be another Tchaikovsky. Does this mean that the art world should try to negate these geniuses or tamp down their voices to make lesser artists seem more important? Haven’t we had enough of authorities silencing important voices in favor of nonsense?

This little program of Square Dance, Episodes, and Western Symphony on Wednesday night was danced well for the most part. One can’t complain about Megan Fairchild and Anthony Huxley burning through Square Dance like a pile of hay on fire. They crackled and threw sparks. It was a relief to see Huxley back on stage after last seeing him in an orthopedic boot with crutches. His connection with the audience was as strong as ever; he pulled the viewer in with a sense of interior life that made us want to look more closely. In the corps de ballet, Olivia Bell projected so much joy and confidence in every step, and truly made us appreciate all that the corps must do in this ballet. We also noted the welcomed return of Samuel Melnikov who has been out of action for far too long.

Episodes enjoyed formidable principal casting. Isabella LaFreniere and Chun Wai Chan in the first movement Opus 21, Alexa Maxwell and Taylor Stanley in the third movement Opus 24, and Mira Nadon with Adrian Danchig-Waring in the final Musical Offering were strong and clear in their dancing but didn’t emphasize the black and white of the choreography. It all seemed to have the same tone to it. However, Ashley Hod and Alex Knight in the second movement Opus 10 gave their work dramatic definition that easily held the viewer’s attention. The corps de ballet included several new dancers and apprentices who were not always coordinated. Both Mckenzie Bernardino Soares and Quinn Starner were oily orange to the point of being distracting. Her habit of standing with her weight back instead of forward and arching the back while puffing out the chest doesn’t fit with the aesthetic of the company. It’s too gymnast-like and circus-y.

Western Symphony received fine principal performances in each section. Ashley Laracey and Jules Mabie were well-matched in the Allegro. She is ever-youthful whereas he is literally youthful like a puppy. Ashley gushed with elegance and charm, her technique solid as a rock. Hopefully, management will come to its senses and recognize her formally as a principal. Laracey, Kikta, and Hod are way overdue for promotions. As the saying goes, It’s never too late to do the right thing. Mabie’s debut was delightful for its skilled allegro and theatrical bounce. His pirouettes were working very well for him, and he skillfully set aside his natural modesty for that of an eager cowboy. In addition to being a fine technician and competent partner, Mabie showed that he’s an interesting dancer. We’re really looking forward to following his journey at NYCB. In the corps, Ava Sautter and Owen Flacke were perfectly stylish and threatened to highjack our attention throughout the ballet.

Aaron Sanz and Indiana Woodward played against one another in the Adagio section with a sense of slick & sly. He was the overly-confident cowboy; she was like the smarter-than-average saloon girl who knew how to get a good tip from the customer. Once again, Olivia Bell along with Mia Williams were eye-catching for their superb and joyous dancing.

Emily Kikta was perfection as the coy but abundantly charming flirt while Roman Mejia, yet another overly-confident cowboy (will they ever learn?), simply would not give up on his pursuit of her. The two were able to exaggerate their height differences to great comedic effect. Mejia let his turns and jumps rip as did Kikta in her appropriately flashy fouettes.

The first week of the fall season has not held a lot of interest for us. NYCB should re-think its programing strategy to give the audience more of what it wants, not what management wants it to want.

Our H.H. Pump Bump Award is bestowed upon Emily Kikta and Ashley Laracey for their sparkling performances in Western Symphony and to Ashley Hod for plumbing the contemporary depth in Episodes. 

The movers lost an entire crate of Haglund’s most prized shoes. This world being what it is these days, we’re positive they were stolen. If anyone sees the Bang-up Job Moveristas pedaling their rose-colored carts along Hell’s Kitchen’s sidewalks wearing size 12 Louboutins, please contact Haglund immediately. 

Speaking of rose-colored attire, New York City Ballet opened its Fall 2025 season dancing Donizetti Variations in Karinska’s luxurious costumes. Megan Fairchild possessed the spiritous enthusiasm that has marked her entire career, now in its final year. Swift and exacting pointes marked her elocution like sharp consonants while her musicality flowed with joy. Joseph Gordon danced with such a high personal standard that he, as Daniel Ulbricht has done for so many years, stands apart from the other men in the company by dedicating his performances to raising the bar each time. He may have inspired the other three men in the cast — Kennard Henson, Charlie Klesa, and Mckenzie Bernardino Soares — because they came ready with the energy, crisp clear feet, confident partnering, and showmanship that helped make this a first-rate performance. The ladies were also raring to go, particularly Claire Von Enck and Ava Sautter.

We don’t recall having seen Balanchine’s Ballade but Mira Nadon made us want to see it again. Mira + Fauré = immediate intoxication. Obviously, much care was taken to get her ready for this role that was originally made for Merrill Ashley, but unfortunately, it didn’t seem like much attention was given to her partner, Peter Walker. His partnering was responsible and caring, but his solo dancing looked like it needed several more rehearsals. The corps of short women really didn’t add anything to the ballet and looked odd dancing behind the two very tall principals. Odder still was the arched back with ribs pushed forward like a gymnast that we observed from one of the women.

Whenever we see the beginning of Balanchine’s heartless, soulless adaptation of the classic Swan Lake with the hanging icicles and the line of swans “swimming” through the obviously unfrozen lake, we think that Balanchine may have choreographed a scene for an episode of Lucille Ball and her friend Ethel. What follows is so bad that it almost has to be comical. We can’t think of any other Balanchine choreography that is more unmusical, more lacking in story, more ridiculously staged with huntsmen who appear out of nowhere to fumble around frenetically before disappearing into the night. Isabella LaFreniere would make a gorgeous Odette in a Swan Lake. Here, in the more traditional moments that resembled Ivanov’s choreography, she was lovely. She had no problem effectively dispatching the choreography and communicating with the mime, but to what end? Chun Wai Chan is capable of portraying a full and captivating Siegfried. We saw it opposite Yuriko Kajiya at Houston Ballet. But here, it felt like we were observers passing by Siegfried’s crisis without knowing the reason for it. Could someone please explain why this production is worthwhile?

The evening’s programing should have been stronger for an opening night, and it isn’t strong enough to be repeated as many times as it is this fall. Clearly, NYCB has for quite some time been cutting back on the amount of repertory it presents each season and cutting back even more on Balanchine’s masterpieces in favor of presenting his less than top drawer choreography. It’s not a good strategy. We’re not going to sit through this program again. Our H.H. Pump Bump Award is bestowed upon Joseph Gordon for constantly reaching for something more within his performances.

Thanks for stopping by.

We got to our new home safe and sound, but it was a very bumpy trip.

It appears all posts have been saved. We’ll be painting, wallpapering and moving stuff around in the coming weeks.

Not sure exactly to where yet, but our H.H. blog service, TypePad, is closing its theater doors for good and bringing down the curtain for its last performance on September 30th. So, we are on the hunt for new digs with more stylish furniture.  Stay tuned, but just bear in mind that all the fine TypePad sites — arts, health, political, lifestyle, all of them — will be disappearing on September 30th.

Edited to add:

Good heavens. Thanks for the notes. Yes, we will be exporting the blog posts to some other host and continuing on. 

        When one is happily moseying down the LIE on cruise control toward vacation, one still has to look out for those occasional pits in the road and speeders who are impatient to get to their destinations and think that swerving back & forth, changing lanes, and horn honking will get them there more quickly than the putt-putts in the right lane. Haglund is a putt-putt — always has been, always will be. Putt putt putt the old car down the slow lane at 55 mph. No need to pass anyone. 

        If you miss the final two performances of ABT's Sylvia today, you'll be missing the boat to Bliss Island.

        Last night's cast of Skylar Brandt, Jake Roxander, Patrick Frenette and the ABT Orchestra brought us another glorious performance. We loved seeing Brandt challenged by the Ashtononics and would love to see her in more Fonteyn-inspired Ashton roles, particularly Cinderella with de la Nuez as her P.C. Roxander, though engaging to watch and a superb partner to Brandt, was less impactful without the opportunity to blast through his reality-bending feats. He needs a second performance to figure this out. Frenette built a powerful characterization of Orion. There was one particular moment when we thought his multiple pirouettes were going to peter out just to claim an extra rotation, but then he punctuated them with a strikingly fierce arabesque that really showed us who Orion was. Are we going to see Frenette as Albrecht in this lifetime, or will we have to wait until his next life? Is it so hard to recognize that he should just be turned over to Julio to get this done?

        Corps members were given individual opportunities to shine in solos, duos, and trios with some uneven results. Elwince Magbitang made a decent start with Eros but did not approach what Carlos Gonzales and Takumi Miyake were able to pull out of the role and is not as technically gifted. Paula Waski as Diana didn't fail but didn't succeed notably, either. Fanqi Li and Jose Sebastian were a gorgeous match as Ceres and Jaseion. Finnian Carmeci as Apollo caught our eye for his gracious manner and obvious theatrical leaning whereas Remy Young as Terpsichore caught our eye for her difficulty with releves and the tension that reverberated through her torso, neck, arms, and facial expression. Zimmi Coker is still working her way back into shape after her long injury layoff; hopefully, she'll be 100% by fall. And then, there was Elisabeth Beyer glowing in every corps step she took. Beyer is not your typical second year corps member; we've all been watching her since she was 10 years old at YAGP where she crushed the most technically demanding solos and applied artistry way beyond her years. Let's get her a few challenges, uh?

        Let's talk about hair. Cut it, guys. Messy frizz in the face does no one any favors. And it looks utterly ridiculous sticking out from under some of the hats the men wear in the classics.

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        So we're coming down the home stretch of ABT's summer season with another great lineup of Swan Lakes. Then it's on to the Joyce Theater for Tiler Peck's Jerome Robbins Ballet Festival that will include artists from NYCB, ABT, Royal Ballet, and Paris Opera Ballet. You don't want to miss a lineup like this. Wonderful artists all, and you get the opportunity to revisit Brooks Landegger since he grew out of NYCB's Nutcracker Little Prince role years ago and now readies his move into the ABT corps. 

        It was like going through the dessert line twice. Oh my goodness. You know that $35,000 chocolate pudding that Chef Marc Guibert throws together with caviar, high end chocolate and gold, and then molds it into the shape of a Faberge egg? We were eatin' it at ABT’s first two performances of Frederick Ashton’s glorious Sylvia. Oh my goodness. Such beauty and wondrous dancing. And if ever there was a ballet to celebrate ABT’s corps de ballet, Sylvia is it. Be there Friday night or be very sorry.

        First, let’s talk about the music by Léo Delibes, possibly the most beautiful music in all of ballet. in the history of the world. within or outside the universe. One cannot listen to this music and not believe one is French to the soul. On opening night Conductor David LaMarche empowered the ABT orchestra to bring its best and received well-deserved bravos at bows. The horn soloist should have taken a bow at the end of the evening, too. We’ve heard that Tchaikovsky admired Sylvia and claimed that if he’d known about it earlier, he would not have written Swan Lake. It’s funny how strains of Delibes show up in Swan Lake, particularly during the turmoil of Act IV. As rich, as delicate, as intricate and as full of grace as this music is, the choreography that Frederick Ashton wove within its architecture is no less.

        Ashton uses most of the steps in the book and then adds shovels, rakes, bows & arrows, and wheel barrows just to make them more interesting — like brisé volé isn’t damned hard enough by itself. Only women who can leap to the rafters, hop on pointe, flip to arabesque on a dime, add a pirouette to everything, and pick their pointes like there’s no tomorrow need apply for the role of Sylvia. This role is a bear, a test, a testament to the beauty of classical ballet vocabulary. Catherine Hurlin and Christine Shevchenko were tangible proof.

        Quite different in their demeanor, Hurlin was a robust, authoritative Sylvia whose mood easily switched from heat to cool whereas Shevchenko maintained a more moderate temperature throughout the performance. Neither ballerina aced her entrance with the wind-up string of pique turns that culminate in grand jete, flip to tour jete, flip back to grand jete. They did not match our memories of Herrera and Wiles who were pretty darned fearless back in the day. The pique turns are not “the trick”; they are the preparation for the grand jete, tour jete, grand jete which are "the trick.” Also, both ballerinas rarely found that beautiful position of the arms where one is extended in an upward straight line while the hand & wrist of the other rest on the shoulder in a triangle. Shevchenko particularly swam through that position without showing us the clear form of both sides at the same time. Other than those little complaints, the dancing was superb. Even that awkward, uncomfortable lift where Aminta holds Sylvia’s right thigh to his torso while she tries to make an elegant fourth position with her pointes was spot-on for both performances. Sylvia’s swivels into developpe devant that actually move backwards (how did he think this up?) were flawless. The pointe picking was like delicious sprinkles on the pudding. Such beautiful work from both. Form and lines from the ballerinas were gorgeous although we wish Hurlin would either turn out her knees to match her feet or reduce the angle of the standing foot so as to avoid looking like a potential HSS case study.

        If we weren’t already giddy enough about our Sylvias, our Amintas sent us over the top. This is Calvin Royal III’s best role of his career, thus far. He was magnificent. Everything was working for him — the tempi, the temperament, the connection with his partner, his huge jetes and solid pirouettes. It may be that Hurlin inspired him to move beyond his comfort zone. Whatever it was, he sold us another ticket for the weekend. Guest artist Reece Clarke brought all that Royal Ballet uncompromising detail to his Aminta which we pray will motivate every ABT dancer to imitate. The sight of those long arms holding a perfect — repeat, perfect first position while doing rhythmic rotations in his pirouettes with easy, relaxed head-spots was among the most beautiful technical moments of either performance. It’s doubtful one could fully appreciate it from an orchestra level seat, but from above, oh my goodness, it was breathtakingly beautiful. We’re afraid that size matters — oh yes, it does. Clarke is unquestionably blessed with unusual height, length, and good looks, but his technical exploitation of it is the result of a lifetime of work. One doesn’t so much as notice the huge man as one notices the huge performance that he is giving. He did not struggle in the least to command the cavernous Met stage. 

        A week after his Polixenes practically sent Leontes to the funny farm in The Winter’s Tale, here was Cory Stearns again masterfully manipulating the plot to his liking as the over-heated albeit cold-blooded Orion. James Whiteside also gave a strong, unsubtle, likable performance in the role.

        Carlos Gonzales and Takumi Miyake stood the role of Eros, god of love, impressively before pas de chevaling around as the shrouded sorcerer who brings Aminta back to life. Their solos replete with soaring tour jetes and grounded petit allegro were a joy to watch. Virginia Lensi and Sierra Armstrong were featured as Diana, the huntress and goddess of chastity, in well-deserved opportunities. Both are such interesting and beautifully disciplined dancers. Hats off to the two exotic man servants who had to battu their brains out while holding their hands up in the air. Nathan Vendt and Cameron McCune with substitute Luis Ribagorda yesterday were phenomenal. All of the Attendants were gorgeous as were the Muses. It’s always nice to see Nicole Graniero stop by for the Met season. We enjoyed seeing Patrick Frenette dancing with Virginia Lensi as Jaseion and Ceres and look forward to seeing his Orion on Friday.

        Friday’s performance is slated to honor ABT’s corps de ballet. This production of Sylvia shows off their collective and individual dancing like no other ballet — although Ratmansky’s Of Love and Rage comes close. It all leaves one breathless thanks to the geniuses of Ashton and Delibes. We’re going to do something a little unusual here and toss our highly prized HH Pump Bump Award, a gold-embossed Givenchy sandal with horn heel, to Conductor David LaMarche and the ABT orchestra for their glorious music.