so i caught nico muhly last night at the kitchen – it was a collaboration between muhly and icelandic installation artist hrafnhildur arnardottir (aka ’shoplifter’), called SKIN, BONE, HAIR. it wasn’t as precious or accessible as i’d anticipated, but the theme was pretty damn apparent throughout: aggressive hairbrushing, simulated “playing” of three women’s absurdly long locks, an elaborate stage with skulls and updo’s dotting the floor, and the lyrics to the final piece performed (gorgeously) by sam amidon.

the new yorker profile by rebecca mead last month did a fantastic job, i think, of hitting on muhly’s organic, boundless creative process. but i’m not sure that last night’s piece – structurally, as a singularly conceived composition – came together as well as it was intended to. watching muhly watch his friends perform was probably the best part for me – his mind is clearly operating at a pace and depth that the rest of us can only fantasize about.

afterwards i bumped into an acquaintance who i imagine experiences the world with similar intensity – he just happens to be in a different creative field.