I used to listen to my brother Andrew practice this at home. I understood it more as our parents' music than ours, something from a more tragic, more sentimental world that spoke all too close to the ear. It was their ear not mine, though it might have been Andrew's. It seems closer now, for all its pleading resolutions.
For Massenet see here, for Thais here, and for the Meditation itself, here.
Beware: the applause at the end of this clip is longer than the piece. Music lovers do tend to love themselves for loving music.
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