After a rather gruelling week bronchia-wise, I (unfortunately) boarded a plane for Los Angeles, from whence I hail. And in my jelagged/besotted state, I decided to dip into a little television, which I only do when I am here. Specifically, I tuned into half of an episode of the controversial Nip/Tuck, an extreme look at plastic surgery. On this episode, the two doctors (whose names escape me) were set to perform a facial transplant, moving the face of a dead girl to that of a victim of a carnival accident. Though when one of the exceedingly handsome surgeons faltered from an excess of cocaine, the original partner (who had apparently abandoned the practice for life in the witness protection program) needed to be called in last minute. As a consolation, the coked-up wing of this trio, forced to assist, was allowed to choose the music. And what did he choose? Not something obvious like "Dance Ten, Looks Three" from A Chorus Line, nor something awful like "I've Grown Accustomed to her face." No, he chose--get this--Proverb by Steve Reich, available on his excellent CD City Life. "How small a thought it takes to fill a whole night" is the only text set in the great composer's homage to Perotin. And in the case of this show--and perhaps of most television in general--truer words were never spoken.
Was nice to enjoy part of the show, however; how often do marimbas feature on even the edgiest Fox presentation?
Correction: Whoops, its: "How small a thought it takes to fill a whole LIFE". Thanks Carl. I've always played that wrong in my head.