At the dawn of the new millennium, a gifted young composer could arrive in a great cosmopolitan capital, convinced he stood at the threshold of a flourishing career. Conservatories still taught rigorous craft, and the art institutions were not yet spooked by the language of excellence. Boulez, Ligeti and Stockhausen were alive, still active. At first glance, the infrastructure of serious music would appear intact to our young musician. Yet within a few short years he would watch the entire ecology dissolve. His own expectations, his sense of beginning – becoming something in this vast world – would turn out to be the tail end of the system he had been promised.