"Now that's quite a responsibility," says Kathleen, deathly serious from the Piazza San Cosimato, as I tell her of the site of the sound piece in progress. All day spent in the dark tavern carving bypasses of voices from the literal underground.

Carving from the blindness resulting from the hegemony of vision in this culture, which has no time for listening.

"Non abbiamo tempo," said Renato after Corto Circuito. "It's an omen—something we're being told."

Thank you Luigi Nono for the Promethean augury.