When you can’t tell the difference between the musician warming up and the performance itself, you know you’re in trouble. Imagine watching NBA players taking three steps, without dribbling, before dunking. Surely you wouldn’t confuse that practice routine with game action, when they take four steps, without dribbling, before dunking.

Anyway, I didn’t stay for the whole concert, but still appreciated the fact that I can cross two more composers off my imaginary list. I’m sure the cellist played Amy Heo’s When It Falls in the manner in which it was intended, but to me it sounded like a really bad version of the signals we might send to dissuade an unfriendly group of aliens attempting to land at Devils Tower National Monument.

As for Amy Wurtz’s Songs and Dances, I’m thinking about suing, based on false advertising, for the emotional distress caused me by hearing music that could not possibly be the foundation for any terpsichorean movement I’ve ever seen. The second part, entitled Spitfire, was anything but. Perhaps I was oblivious to an ironical message, but ran for the door anyway, which was perhaps unfortunate, as my later research revealed that the two closing selections I missed, by other composers, I might have enjoyed. They shouldn’t have buried the lede, just the opening music.