Drifting string tones, brooding bass notes, doleful motifs, and the shimmering toll of deep bells and solo guitar, whose melodies surge and seep into the hazy backdrop, combine to create a somewhat troubled, pensive air in the first two soundscapes. Yet all that impending gloom dissipates like so much dew in the morning light of the third ‘scape, where slow burnished strings and molten soloing move in a stately manner toward a tangible sense of hope and resolution.

Yet outside the world of soundscapes other things are happening, as Fripp noted in his dairy, “Overall, a good show to a good audience, with some strangenesses.

Like the young man who wandered in, his handycam held to his chest, and sat in the middle section of the front row. I found myself on my feet, walking offstage while The LCG were playing, and removing the handycam from him. Apparently, house security let him in because they assumed, with handycam on such bold display, that he was with us. This is the kind of security-judgement made by venues, indicating the kind of security that venues provide & which we are asked to accept as secure. The young man wanted his handycam returned & was willing to pay a fine to get it. His fine: take no further interest in RF’s life or work.

Our final meeting, after supper. Two comments were made. The first, on the joy of circulations. The second, on the value of paying attention to the first footstep into the theatre, the first footstep onto the stage, and listening to our first note.

Completion was declared for the performance part of this tour, this course-on-the-road, at 23.49.”