23 ...

Our seats were in a second-level box, almost directly facing centre stage. Mondrian sat quietly on my left, nattily dressed as always, legs crossed, reading the programme. We were here in the Teatro dell'Opera di Roma to see the American Ballet Theater's production of Giselle – a rare opportunity to see this outstanding company perform here in Rome.

Mondrian and I had a few things in common. He was born in Amersfoort, in the Netherlands province of Utrecht, and moved to America as it became clear that Europe was heading for World War II; my father's ancestors emigrated from the neighbouring Dutch province of Gelderland to New York City, then New Amsterdam, in 1659. So, we had a feeble Dutch connection. We were both painters, and we shared a tendency toward neatness, although in that regard I was a rank amateur compared to Pieter, an obsessive perfectionist. In any case, each of us seemed to enjoy the company of the other on occasion. 

This was a perfect perch for some serious people watching. Two little Italian girls chattered away excitedly in the next box. Piet looked up from his programme and smiled at the youngsters. With only five or six minutes to curtain, I was relieved when the door behind me opened abruptly, and in burst Donatello and Michelangelo, looking frazzled and breathless from their rush to arrive on time.

After hurried introductions, everyone took their seats just as the director approached the orchestra and took his podium to polite applause, and lights dimmed.

Along with the rest of the audience, we stood to applaud and cheer as the performance ended. The dancers in the four principal roles were astonishingly good, and it was a very long ovation. Finally we made our way out of the theatre to the small Piazza Beniamino Gigli where, after a short discussion, we decided to have a bite to eat just across the street at Trattoria Matriciana.

" The chorus were really amazing, don't you think?" asked Piet as we lifted our glasses of prosecco to toast the evening.

"Oh, they were incredible," I said. "Absolutely synchronized, and so consistent."

“I must confess that the art of this current period sometimes baffles me,” declared Donatello as he set down his glass. What, for example, distinguishes today’s performance art from the art we all saw in tonight’s ballet?"