What'd you do this evening?

I went to the Gabriel Metsu exhibition at the National Gallery, then off to the Kennedy Center for the free performance by NSO Youth Fellows. Before, between, and after these events, I read a wonderful little New Yorker short story.

Metsu was a contemporary of Rembrandt and Vermeer. I like some of Rembrandt's stuff but unfortunately I don't get most of Vermeer's. Anyway, Metsu, IMHO, isn't a rival to either. By far, my favorite painting was "Mother and sick child":
Very Madonna and child, don't you think?

The Kennedy Center performance showcased five high school kids:

• A "percussionist" playing snare drum and marimba was my favorite. You know what a marimba is, right? Something like a tambourine, right? Wrong. But don't feel bad. That's what I thought too.
• A flutist playing some atonal piece by a 20th century composer. The composition was not at all interesting, but her breath control was astounding.
• A violist hacking and sawing away at a Hindemith composition, reinforcing all my prejudices against Hindemith (and Schoenberg).
• A bass player performing three short pieces by Koussevitsky -- about whom I knew nothing except that he had some relationship with Bernstein (maybe he was Bernstein's predecessor at the NY Philharmonic? maybe Bernstein's mentor?) Anyway, I liked the music.
• A trumpeter playing another 20th century piece. I didn't pay much attention.

I enjoyed the percussionist and I enjoyed -- and was glad to learn a little about -- Koussevitsky. And I was glad to have my Hindemith prejudices confirmed. And I was impressed by the flutist.

And the New Yorker story? "Asleep in the Lord," by Jeffry Eugenides. In the 19080s Mitchell is on a spiritual journey, and he goes to Calcutta to work as a volunteer in one of Mother Teresa's hospitals. A very funny line:

[His breakfast companion is Herb.] "Herb clearly considered himself a spiritual person. The way he held your gaze let this be known." Mitchell realizes that if he "was ever going to become a good Christian, he would have to stop disliking people so intensely. But it was maybe asking too much to begin with Herb."

And then there was this, also at breakfast; it made me laugh out loud:

At a long table directly beneath the mural, a large group was gathered. The men in this group kept their hair short. The women favored long skirts, bib-collared blouses, and sandals with socks. They were sitting up straight, their napkins in their laps, conversing in low serious tones.

These were the other volunteers for Mother Teresa.

What if you had faith and performed good works, what if you died and went to Heaven, and what if all the people you met there were people you didn't like?

Footnote: Tonight's violist, who has been studying with an NSO musician for three years, also happens to be "a National Merit Scholarship Semi-Finalist, an AP Scholar with Distinction, and a National AP Scholar. She is captain of her high school debate team . . . " Think this kid's got a future?