The phrase “layers of history” repeated as the strings played on, the words echoing through the very walls being remembered. It was as if the atrium itself was an instrument, its reverberations throwing the composer’s sounds back at us in real time.
The phrase “layers of history” repeated as the strings played on, the words echoing through the very walls being remembered. It was as if the atrium itself was an instrument, its reverberations throwing the composer’s sounds back at us in real time.
