Ice-skating is just a bit above syncronized swimming for me as a spectator
sport, but when I came upon a performance by 13-year-old Naomi Nari Nam
last night, I experienced something that's becoming unfortunately rare in
opera houses and concert halls:  the *joy* of performing.

Even at the perfection of Kissin's Chopin recital the night before,
I could not participate beyond being a listener.  When Naomi did a
triple-something-or-other and her face lit up, I was in the Zone with her.

Callas, of course, had this quality, along with a couple of erratic Italian
tenors whom I honor out of proportion with what consistency of quality
would command.

There is a happy combo of excellence and pleasure today in Flicka, Cura,
and Quasthoff, but just try to add to that tiny list!  Where have all the
fun performers gone?

Janos Gereben/SF
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