He wasn't hard to find since I had been to Pere Lachaise two years ago. That time, however, I didn't have a camera with me.

Paying homage to the great singer and teacher who died in 1832, I found Manuel García's resting place fronted by a motorcycle which belonged to a gentleman working on a tomb across the path. "Would you like me to move it?" He asked in perfect English. "No." I said. "That won't be necessary." He went back to painting, and I went about picture-taking, a metaphor forming in my mind of the old and new sciences of voice co-existing rather than cancelling each other out.

But here's something to consider: Manuel García has been tomb-raided. At least, that's what the upside down lid—which is slightly ajar—suggests. I came to this conclusion having noticed that the lettering on the rear end of the tomb is upside down, the words in question being Consession a Perpetuite—burial plot held in perpetuity.

And this thought came to mind: It's one thing to raid the teachings of a great lineage (Manuel García the Younger set about recording his father's teaching) for one's devices, but another thing entirely to encounter them on their own terms.

Having been traveling in Europe for a month, I am now back in Manhattan teaching García's principles.