I couldn’t begin to describe this unforgettable evening: Morricone’s exquisite strains lilting, lifting, and coaxing closely-held emotions out of you to be swirled away on evening breezes, mingling then with those of all the other enraptured concert goers that filled the square. I don’t think there never was a more appropriate event for the Piazza and its evocative environs. Bravo, Maestro.
(A practical aside: it was during the tension-laced urgings of the Untouchables that we first noticed the acqua making its entrance up through the slots in the Piazza pavement…and pooling right under the lighting cables. The engineers inspected the scene quite regularly during the evening, not sure whether to be pro-active or just see how the situation might unfold. “è Venezia,” says one to the other. “che vuoi fare.” It’s Venice. Whaddya gonna do.)