The first month I was in London I rented a room from a person I met on Spareroom.co.uk. She had a few other tenants and one in particular was from Italy and was having a tough time surviving in the city. I realized pretty quickly my landlord and I had differing political views and soon every meal time began to feel like a chamber opera. I decided to write a libretto and then when I was having a tea in the grand cafe at the V&A found myself enraptured by the piano player who was improvising on some familiar french classical themes. A tenor rose from a nearby table and launched into a Mozart aria and afterwards I approached him to see if he would sing the parts of my libretto. I learned Carlo met Antimo when they were both doing cruise ships and he was open to collaborating with me on my project. We recorded his parts a week later at his friends home and then had Antimo join us at Goldsmiths with a mezzo-soprano I met in a Nunhead boutique. We snuck into the side of the building so as not to cross the picket line, and after some pleading with the administration got into a big hall with a grand piano, and recorded another of the parts as well as some of Antimo’s improvisations. Antimo was playing on the Costa Concordia while it ran aground. I realized, as usual, my pretenses about art are less interesting than the lives and experiences of the subjects that figure in the work. Ian Marshall, the instructor in the Graphics and Time-based Media department has been helping me build characters in a video game engine called Unreal that he described an ‘infinite horizon of false promise.’ At this juncture I plan to bring in the different vocal parts and have the characters perform them in a digital world, maybe a combination of the V&A Cafe and the Costa Concordia.