Almost as soon as the concert began, I felt tears start in my eyes. It wasn't fado or saudade, I realised later, it was that it was so long since I'd heard live, as opposed to recorded, music. Time was when I listened to live music three or four nights a week. Sometimes, every night. Now, hardly ever. Made me think: when did we start replacing the experience with the record of the experience? Would have to be in pictures, a very long time ago, wouldn't it? Though that wasn't necessarily how pictures were understood, as replacements, they may have been thought as different from or more than the so-called real thing. Then there's an immense hiatus, millenia long, before writing arrives. Then, I guess, after the Book it's what? The photograph? & the phonograph ... 19th century is the age of Mechanical Reproduction of the Work of Art. And now ... we scarcely know what Originals are any more. I say scarcely without much conviction because actually I think we know the difference very well indeed; just that we encounter it less and, when we do, it is often only through an act of will.

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