When I was younger and busier, as Christmas became more and more commercial, as retail crushed harder upon us and Christmas became the the marker of the economy, as downtown begat malls begat catalogues begat the internet, begat the cassette-CD-MP3-blaring soft-core soul whine of so-called music, it became easy to be increasingly annoyed by the hype and nonsense that confused Christmas.
“Tomorrow you can see Diana’s new piece.” Diana lives next door to my hostess on the getting-better upper West side. She’s a Liturgical Choreographer, whatever that means. Delightful—a free dance performance in Manhattan. On Sunday morning I trudge off on foot through Central Park to the Church where the performance will start at ten. Ten [...]