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And then he laughed. At least, I think he did. That laugh-like voice was like the empty sound of wind blowing up from deep inside a cavern.
The speakers were huge Tannoy Autographs, the separate amplifier an original vacuum tube Marantz. And
“I’m sure you know this,� he continued, “but Don Giovanni was first performed in Prague. The theater was small, and so was the orchestra, and none of the singers were famous,
“Was this a ghost story?� “Closer to what’s called a tale of the mysterious. Have you ever read Ueda Akinari’s book Tales of the Spring Rain?� Menshiki asked.
Yet it also struck me that it might have been a work that had to be lost. Tomohiko Amada had poured just too much of his passion, his soul, into it for it to be exposed to public view. It was filled with his spirit. Thus, although it was a superb painting, it possessed some sort of vicious power—it could summon things from the other side. By discovering it, I had set a cycle of some kind
