On the night of arrival, we went to Robert Ward's new opera, Minutes to Midnight, which deals with the world's greatest physicist who has unlocked the secrets of cosmic energy; his conflict is between delivering his discovery to the military or publishing it in a scientific review for the peaceful betterment of mankind. As the wide of the preoccupied genius, who never has time even to bolt down his meager lunch, Evelyn Lear is given the evening's best line: "Run, run, run. Always on the run." The music echoes this sing-song triviality for three hours (sans hard-edge of Weill or spookiness of Penderecki), but we stuck it out, mainly because Bob and Mary Ward were seated directly behind us.