We went to the Summerstage show tonight. In the long lulls between acts they played music on the PA, much of it from live recordings. The special guest Rufus Wainwright was introduced at a certain point, provoking furrowed expressions throughout the throng that had stretched out upon the AstroTurf before the slowly setting sun. A lot of crowd noises of another crowd; a phantom, unseen, rival crowd taunting us from the dark beyond which is inhabited by all such artifacts, be they records, films or photographs; from the mysterious world of mirror, from anti-place and anti-time.