<strong>Mr. Fritz with Madison - Moussad watching</strong><br/><br/>A day for surprises. Mr. Fritz tried several changes of tempo and mixture. He might as well be baking his own receipts. The harmony was exquisite. The word exquisite maybe over used today. But he hadn’t heard that kind of talent from a no name slave in a very long time. This morning with Tsade did not count.<br/><br/>It was as if she could read his mind. Anticipating his notations, had read his scribbles at the margin of the pages. His hand moved with the music. The beat forgotten as one forgets which foot to step off on with the sheer joy of running.  The music rang out, cheerfully. It tickled and delighted. It was whole and stood by itself kicking open the doors of the room in a way that had heads popping in with smiles and staying…<br/><br/>She was drawing an audience. And oh could she handle mezzo soprano without fault.  He must have her for the trio. He must!!<br/><br/>The big finish with a hold note that would have had opera divas gasping. And they cheered.  It ended and Mr. Fritz turned around to face the chairs, his look stern.  But only momentarily.<br/><br/>The room was filled with people and they were on their feet cheering and clapping.  He turned back to the platform and drew himself up, the baton pointing to the three singers while the other hand was open to the accompanist. He meaning for them to take a well deserved bow.