space (of the church) is important insofar as it gives the cellist the idea that it is there, more than anywhere else, that she can give what to her feels like an honest rendering of the suites. Listeners of the cd â€” from a distance of course, in individual isolation â€” are the beneficiaries, for they will hear a performance the musician believes in. By then the space of the church has vanished from view, since it was simply used as a vehicle for making the recording. Space here seems to be a paradoxical concept in two respects, something of a black hole that is both there and not there at the same time, a catalyst that eliminates itself. In my opinion, this is the route that designers who study the relation between music, space and architecture should follow. Not primarily to discover certainties but, rather, to search for the most creative circumscribing movements and, thus, to sound out the limits of this trio of concepts.