The next day's evening concert proves to be one of the best. It begins with the Beethoven Serenade played in the middle of the dome with the three musicians standing more or less amongst the audience, and Krysia later says that although it disoriented her because she didn't know where to try to project her sound to, it also pleased her too because she could hear chuckles coming from the audience all around her. Then we do the Stockhausen again; this time the audience, whose average age is a good ten or twenty years older than on the last occasion, is less enthusiastic but no less intent during the performance. In the second half we try out Felix's idea of having everyone in place on the stage for the various small French piece which have to be played... David's Allegro Appasionato by Saint-Saëns is followed by Robin's Habanera and Krysia's Blues movement from the Ravel Sonata; Michael plays the Poulenc Sonata, David the Fauré 'Après Un Rêve' (all of these with me playing the piano); I play Françaix's solo piano piece In case of delirium, and Leo and I play Ravel's Tzigane. The audience is rapt throughout, and follows the amusing juxtapositions with delight - for example the quiet G major ending of the Ravel Habanera and the quiet G major beginning of the Blues immediately after it, with no distracting applause; then the end of the Fauré and the delirious Françaix which follows it. By the time we get to Tzigane the audience is completely with, us, and Leo makes the most of this by exaggerating every episode and change of character in the piece. The audience gasps and laughs at every new idea as though it were watching a clever comedy sketch, and I am astonished at how closely they follow the progress of the piece, and how free they evidently feel to laugh aloud. Of course Leo's comedic skills are a crucial factor. << less