but it would be no stranger than the existing situation in the concert and opera world.
And yet, it would appear, there is no remedy. It is an unfortunate property of music that it occupies time rather than space. Concerts, therefore, must be given within certain hours, and the number of pieces that can be played during these hours—a concert that lasts over 120 minutes is too long—is strictly limited. The Metropolitan Opera House can give only one full-length opera, or not more than three short ones, in any one evening. Somebody, consequently, must make a choice, and the directors naturally choose the works which they think will appeal to the greatest number of people at the time they are played. This accounts for the fact that a symphony which perhaps has not been performed at all for several years will be announced for performance in New York by four conductors during as many weeks.
Apparently, therefore, we must put up with the inconvenience. We must listen to music when we can, where we can, and with whom we can, and not when, where, and with whom we want to. I wonder if there are others who dream of Debussy's l'Après-midi d'un faune while they are half-listening to Berlioz's Fantastic Symphony, who attend Wagner's Die
