The remote sizzle of opera
The remote sizzle of opera: such a Sunday afternoon sound. Almost indistinct, yet reassuringly present in the background, sometimes to the extent of passive paranoia. Ongoing, incessant, never-ending. Like a gramophone record unwilling to succumb to the needle all the way in the present dimension, whilst reverberating in full potency in another one, leaving us with a flat, desaturated semi-silent tissue of sound. Almost like the sound of silence, vibrating in an operatic skin in the lazy calm of Sunday afternoon.