"On the page it looked, nothing. The beginning... simple, almost comic. Just a pulse... bassoons, basset horns, like a rusty squeeze box. And then... suddenly... high above it... an oboe. A single note hanging there unwavering. Until, a clarinet took it over. Sweetened it into a phrase of such delight. This was no composition by a performing monkey. This was a music I'd never heard. Filled with such longing, such unfulfilled belonging."