Meanwhile a final performance of Julie took place Wednesday (in the wake of the blackout!) which prove I nearly every sense superior to the opening. The principals, Willauer, Gramm and Bonazzi chewed up the dubious scenery, while Zeller's orchestra glittered and soared toward appropriate shrieks. Too late. No one came. And thus, the demi-elaborate preparations trickled away like those of the actress in Diamond in the Sky, like those of Balanchine's Variants so succinctly adumbrated by Edwin Denby, or like the taciturn Bartleby if Flanagan who, less grandly to be sure, expired, but no less sadly. << less