Curious to see how the old whore (103 this year) is faring, I tuned in eagerly to Radio Three’s broadcast of a concert performance of Salome (13 February) — the live event already reviewed appreciatively here by my opera colleague.
Utterly besotted in early teens with this ultimate product of French/Anglo–Irish/Bavarian decadence, I have over the decades ‘put away’ pubescent thrills, not out of puritanism so much as in pursuit of more solid joys and lasting pleasures.

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