Swirling nebula

David Khalili, an Isfahan-born Jew who is now one of the more established veteran collectors of Islamic art, once spoke of his thousands of visual objects in explicitly musical terms. "The collection," he said, "is like a symphony; every object has its note and the combination of them all makes the music."

I like the idea - and I've enjoyed thinking, in recent days, of Cleo's sprawling collection of valued objects in symphonic terms, as well. Her books might comprise an opening movement, characterized by bright coloratura, a vaguely moral optimism, and the occasional note of crass commercialism. Her toys - new Duplo blocks; a kitchen baking set; silly face magnets - could easily constitute the percussive undertones of a second movement. And the flashlight? The Mardi Gras sunglasses? Well, I suppose every conductor has her idiosyncratic moments.

But might there be some actual parallel - some extant symphony that might resemble, in sound or structure, her collection? There might - and Alex Ross' recent description of the opening of Charles Ives' 'Universe Symphony' might seem to offer a relatively strong example. 19 percussionists, writes Ross, and a piccolist, "each playing in a different meter and at a different tempo, generate a swirling nebula of rhythm." I gather that Ives' work doesn't require the symphony to play a stuffed monkey swaddled in a size 5 diaper, or a bed made of blue wooden blocks. But a swirling nebula of rhythm? The parallel seems tenable. You can explore it for yourself here: the music starts at about the 3' mark.