The Opera of Light

Four thousand seats, and every one has a view of the column. The acoustics are perfect. You could hear a coin drop from the top tier.

Nobody sings here. It’s an opera house built for a performance that only goes one way: the light comes down, the audience gives something up, and the curtain never falls because there isn’t one. People buy tickets. The good seats sell out months ahead.

I’ve heard this building empty and I’ve heard it full, and the only difference is that full, it’s quieter. Four thousand people breathing in time. That’s the sound the Architects built the place to collect.