Leontyne gave the traditional run-through of her "new" program last night chez elle, as she does biannually, and now at 57 she is no less a fountain of purest silver than thirty years ago. Sitting in that small green parlor and hearing the notes pour forth, one wonders, is that sound there within her, like the web within the spider, when she is not spinning it forth? But one may as well wonder if the composer's work is in him when he's not working. Leontyne's choice of my song Snake is wrong for her and unrepresentative - all by itself - of me, but one doesn't say that to a diva.