Young Musical Guest Steve Sadono gave a brilliant p eiforrnance ofLiszts B Minor Sonata
Stankus), provided a foil for his banter and read a commercial for a mind-annihilating pill. The product proved so effective that Ed
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Brian Dolan, another Musical Guest, was very impressive with one ofhis own compositions
was locked into a frozen mindless state with blank gaze and immobile limbs until once again Mitchell Rose took the stage. Mr. Rose taught a “Laughter Class” for the audience, instructing us in specific ways to laugh (a high pitched titter, a deep “HUH” and so forth), each signaled by his appropriate hand gestures. He then proceeded to direct us, like a conductor with an orchestra, in a symphony oflaughter. The resultant cacophony was so pants-wettingly funny it awakened even Ed McMaya from his mast-like state. What better way to celebrate Baba than with gales of laughter?
Billy and the kids
The whole show maintamed a fine level of mirth throughout, with originality and little reminders of Whose presence we were in. Except for revelers in the toddy shop, bunks started to fill with tired Sahavasees around ten and most cabins quieted by eleven. (Earplugs are popular acces sories— thoughtfully Musical GuestJosh Lee dazzled us with hisJazz inteiretations made available in the OnThursday, the weather sparkled, again Love Street Bookstore— since most cabins but the altitude (4,500 feet) caused brilliant, contain at least one snorer.) The stars swirled of breath as I hurried upshortness little a around in unbelievable multitudes. hill to get to 8 am breakfast. Registration of new arrivals continued all day. The crew decorating the main stage used yards and yards of rainbow-hued silky stuff like the wings ofa huge butterfly, and pots and pots of blooming plants, plus a sparidy golden garland around Baba’s six-foot tall central portrait. This fill day ofactivities included an op for everyone to create an original portunity i work ofart by painting a design on a ceramic tile for use in the new Pilgrim Center. This I project has been described elsewhere and I found it great fun. However, I did not at first understand that a disconcerting characteristic of the ceramic dyes we use as paint is that these do not take on their final color until they are fired. At the painting stage they seem pale shadows oftheir future selves. One has to employ much imagina tion, and take on faith the representation of the ultimate hue made by the project managers. I have no clue what my Seclu sion Hill landscape will look like when it Mia Campagna charmedus with an amazingly mature operatic aria,followed by a torchy ballad comes out of the kiln, but I greatly enjoyed
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