So it was a smart choice to conclude the symposium with a temporal fold: a repeat performance of a piece conceived by artists Angela Bulloch and David Grubbs that had been played at 11:00 p.m. Written for guitar, trumpet, and bass, the work featured a three-tone motif like a clock's chime that on alternate iterations would undulate in a kind of drawling ornamentation; it kept disappearing and reappearing amid a drone-like texture. On the first listening, I heard the piece as a meditation on how a motif or sonority retains its identity through parameters of pitch, duration, and timbre, even as the listener perceives it differently because of its changing relationship to other musical elements. The repeat performance extended that principle from the motif to the entire piece. It was powerful, nonverbal expression of the concepts of time and change. Like the Program's many other you-had-to-be-there-for-at-least-seven-hours moments, Bulloch and Grubbs's act of embedded repetition reminded me that, as illuminating and stimulating as the lectures were, they ultimately proved that time remains an elusive, confounding phenomenon, and that we still lack the vocabulary to adequately describe it. And while the presentations will have a long life in documentation, the Program's true value was ephemeral, not in its content but the audience’s reception of it -- something that words and HUO-years are unable to measure.