Went to Mark Morris Mozart Dances at the Opera House with Mark L.

I was most engaged by the first piece, Eleven, and enjoyed how the solo piano was portrayed by the solo dancer, and how the rhythmic and melodic echoes in the orchestra were echoed by the movements of the dancers.

In the second piece, Double, I particularly liked how groups of six would come together, break apart, circle, and intertwine with one another in so many variations.

Seeing some of the playfulness and not-quite-ballet-ness of a lot of the dancing had me wondering whether Mark Morris was just having fun, or whether there was an element of mocking traditional ballet forms, too. Hmm...

Went to the BSO's Ravel, Berlioz, Carter concert.

I was a little discouraged when I arrived to see the conductor, James Levine, getting out of a black Cadillac and looking awkward and weak as he was helped across a patch of ice to the stage door of Symphony Hall. I know he's been recovering from back trouble, and I worried about how he'd lead the orchestra.

I don't understand the appeal of the Carter Dialogues. It sounded like an orchestral setting of a BS session at a bar or stoop or extended family meal table. I couldn't pick out an arc or a story or development. It seemed to me just one thing after another, with an occasional echo or embellishment. I don't get it.

I was expecting to like the Berlioz Harold in Italy. I was impressed at the delicacy and quietness of some of the passages (how can so many people playing together sound that sweet and ethereal?), but overall it didn't move me. It sounded to me like accompaniment to something else, and I missed the something else.

I really enjoyed the Ravel Piano Concerto for the Left Hand. Engaging melodies, rhythms ( I did hear a lot of Bolero bubbling through), orchestral colors, energy, contrasts. Lovely.

Ravel's Daphnis and Chloe Suite 2 was a bit of a let-down after the Piano Concerto. It got much louder, but it didn't bring me in or along past the first couple minutes. Oh well. The Piano Concerto made the whole thing worthwhile.

Saw All My Sons at the Huntington and it was well done, though the lead women outshone the lead men by a lot, and the son, in particular, seemed flat. And it reminded me that Arthur Miller is not subtle. Unfortunately, it was marred, even in the last wordless (on stage) scene by two people talking behind me. Bah.

Went to the Damian Ortega exhibit at the ICA. Cool walking through the "exploded view" of the VW bug in particular. Also enjoyed the "Nine Types of Terrain" movies. Coke bottles, spinning oil drums, spinning oil and camera etc. were engaging, but didn't grab me as much.

Also enjoyed the Quaytman silk screened works with interesting fine scale moire or interference patterns, particularly "Exhibition Guide, Chapter 15 [diagonal pink]".

Went to the Met again and was drawn to three exhibits:

American Stories, Paintings of Everyday Life. I didn't take the time to follow all the stories or read all the labels, but was impressed by how quickly drawn into the, well, story, of each painting I was. A reminder of how compelling and immediately human visual storytelling in a single image can be. I wonder, too, how much of it was because of the American content, and how much of it was universal... Would it strike Europeans (or Asians or anyone else) as curious as an outsider or compelling as human or both?

American Landscapes in the Lehman Wing. Generally Hudson River School grand landscapes, including some of my favorites. These always get to me...

Five Thousand Years of Japanese Art. Japanese art tends to get to me, too. So much elegance, simplicity, balance, vigor. I've become more interested recently in screens, and the Sansetsu Old Plum was particularly appealing.

Went to the Saarinen modernism exhibit at the Museum of the City of New York. Fascinating to see more about his overall work, particularly the TWA terminal, including modeling and construction photos and drawings. I was also impressed again at the Yale rink, surprised to see his Miller House in Columbus, curious about his corporate campuses (Deere, IBM), and surprised at the number of chairs he designed (and that he collaborated with Eames). It was a bigger and more interesting exhibit than I'd hoped for.

And the grand old building is quite handsome.

Went to the Frick Collection in NY for the first time. What a refined and impressive palace-as-gallery. Three Vermeers, and lots of other famous paintings. I was particularly struck by and drawn back to the Turner Salisbury Cathedral from the Bishop's Garden.

I went for the Exuberant Grotesques exhibit, which, though small, was a delight. I'm so drawn to the seemingly endless menagerie of fanciful creatures tied together with swashes on plain backgrounds... Mesmerizing...

Rode the No Pants 2010 subway ride in Boston. Mellow fun. Lots of legs. Goosebumps, too. And fun to see the sequential train results -- some people taking off pants, some people getting on pantsless on the second train.

Met Suzanne of http://talk2meont.blogspot.com/ . It was kind of interesting to talk with her about her social experiment to understand and encourage talking to people on the the T.

Groundswell at the Lyric Stage was engrossing, creepy and moving. Who's responsible for improving the lot of (formerly) subjugated people? What means are acceptable? How much do hope and greed and vengeance color our judgment of what's right?

BSO's Haydn, Bach and Schubert concert was lovely. Yo Yo Ma is impressive, conductor Ton Koopman was gawkily, charmingly enthusiastic, and I was impressed listening closely to the Schubert 'Unfinished' closely. Right up my alley.

Saw Avatar in 3D. I'd heard that the visual experience was immersive and impressive, and that the story was sufficient but not inspiring. With those expectations going in, I was even more impressed with the visuals and feel of the whole thing than I'd expected. And though the story did seem well-worn and a bit simplistic, it more than sufficed to hold the whole thing together -- and even get me to think more about it in the following days. Nicely done.

New England Aquarium and Under the Sea in 3D on IMAX was pleasant enough. I can watch fish in aquariums for hours. And the IMAX movie was immersive (pun intended) without being 3D gimmicky. I groaned (inside, at least) at some of the narration, but was fascinated by some of the footage, particularly of cuttlefish changing color and convict fish feeding in a wave across the sandy floor.

Went to Reckless by SpeakEasy. For the first half of it I was amused and annoyed and intrigued, wondering where this was all going. Somehow, it was redeemed for me toward the end as the theme of seeking redemption for past actions that turned out poorly hit home.

Went to MFA's First Fridays with cocktails and music in the old masters room. It was the first time I'd been at the event, and the first time I'd spent much time in the room with the paintings there. It was kind of fun and fascinating to make my way around the room spending time with each painting, overhearing snippets of conversations, listening to bits of Christmasy jazz, and sipping on a holiday ale. And now I'm acquainted with the old master works hanging in the gallery, too!

Went to BSO's Dvorak Symphony 8, Bartok Divertimento for String Orchestra and Martinu Violin Concerto 2. The Bartok was enjoyable enough, the Martinu well-played but not engaging to me, and the Dvorak familiar and delightful.

Heard the Back Bay Chorale do a mix of Italian music "for cathedral, concert hall, and opera house." I was particularly struck by the Rossini liturgical piece O salutaris Hostia, clearly dramatic, yet spiritual. I also enjoyed the other Rossini pieces from Péchés de vielillesse ("Sins of Old Age"), especially the Toast for the New Year -- so light and festive. It was also nice to sit with friends (one of whom I thought would be singing) and listen to other folks I know singing.

I enjoyed Boston Philharmonic's All Wagner Program. In particular, Siegfried's Funeral March is quite moving for me. I was disappointed that often I couldn't hear the soprano soloist that well, with the whole orchestra on stage rather than underneath.

Enjoyed the BSO's open rehearsal!

I was surprised at the long line for tickets twenty minutes before the start time -- it stretched outside nearly to the corner of the building, and it didn't seem to be moving very quickly. I was worried about missing the beginning. It was cool to see a mix of people from college age to older folks with canes lining up for the concert.

I made it in a couple minutes before the conductor got on stage. I was disappointed that the seats I wanted up close on the first balcony were taken by the time I got there (open rehearsals -- open seating), and the ones on the other side I spied from across the hall turned out to be reserved. I went to my go-to seats at the back of the second balcony.

I came mostly for the Honegger Pastorale d'été and Saint-Saëns Piano Concerto No. 2, and was middling on the Stravinsky Petrushka (1947 version).

I was charmed by the Honegger. It had a gentle arc from quiet beginning to dance-y high point in the middle, back to calm. I reminded me a lot of Copland, but with a little more resonance or reverb. I thought a lot about how well this might work as a chamber ensemble arrangement, perhaps woodwind quintet plus string quartet and maybe string bass.

I was surprised by the Saint-Saëns on two counts. First, the composition itself more than met my expectations for a composition by him: well-crafted, intelligent, expressive, varied.

More memorable than the composition itself was the soloist, Lise de la Salle, 21 from France. She came on stage pretty casually with her hair loosely up in what looked like a bun, carrying her purse and wearing a baggy sweater in authoritative high heels. She sat down with poise. Then, wow.

I've heard a few virtuoso pianists in performances, but I don't remember being so impressed by one before. Incredible agility, power and grace. Go to a performance by her if you can!

After the first movement she took off her sweater to a few chuckles and tittering. Clearly she'd been working hard during the first movement, and under her sweater, she had a tighter one on that showed off her beautiful body.

The second movement was quite playful and charming and even from the back of symphony hall I could sense that she and the whole orchestra were enjoying the fun of the piece. At the remarkably cute ending, the audience laughed and chuckled out loud.

Apparently Ms de la Salle had been working hard on the second movement, too, because she then took off the second sweater, leaving herself in a thin-strapped little top. The audience laughed out loud, perhaps wondering, like I did, whether she'd take something else off after the third movement!

After the third movement, the audience was quick to applaud loudly, holler, and after the applause ended, talk excitedly into intermission. I don't recall the last time a classical performance has gotten so many people so excited.

The Stravinsky was well-done and familiar, but it just didn't grab me. I don't know why. I don't think I object to anything in it, but neither does anything really move me. (When I saw a couple of scenes by Basil Twist puppets, I was thoroughly engaged.)

Danish organ music at King's Chapel in Boston was enjoyable enough. Nothing really grabbed me, and only one piece turned me off.

Saw comedian Vidur Kapur. A competent stand-up comic. Not particularly memorable, pleasant enough.