I just edited my last story, proofed my last page, and that means it’s finale time at the P&C. The news desk will handle it from here.

I love going to Middleton Place for this last concert, because it is the ultimate Southern evening and the dividing line between seasons. Before this event, it’s still spring. After it, we are beginning the meltdown of summer. But for one glorious night, it seems like we might be able to stay on the cusp, put on a enough bug spray and enjoy being outside.

I like to see who shows up, as in festival celebrities; and who shows up with chafing dishes and crystal in tow, as in lifestyles I will never acquire. Then I settle back on my blanket with a glass of wine in a plastic cup and wait for the music to start. Somewhere along the line, my patient hubbie realizes I can talk again without babbling about deadlines, headlines and online.

Now the notion that I’m a music fan is laughable given the critics I’ve worked with in the last two and a half weeks, but even I can recognize that sometimes the humidity plays havoc with the string section, and the crickets chirp louder than the flutes. There are certain pieces of music that work much better outside than others. This year is “Pictures at an Exhibition” so it ought to hold its own against the climate.

But no matter what the weather, I still love the night. And on Monday, I’ll be down a bit. The artists have gone home, the gossip has died down, and the audience has all headed to the beach. So I will sleep for a week, and then wish the festival would start all over again. We’ve just gotten the hang of it by the time it’s over.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this year’s festival and thanks for sharing your comments with us. This blog has been one great adventure. See you next year.

James Oestreich of The New York Times picked up on the recent P&C story about the 2007 Spoleto Festival USA poster. To wit: Reporter Dottie Ashley asked 21 people on the street to name the face on the poster, and not one said “Philip Glass.”

This prompted a silly generalization last night about Charleston and the South from one of Oestreich’s readers:

Is this a testament to the uncultured nature of the south, namely Charleston? Being a college town, with money, and large port town perhaps this exposure to the work of Phillip Glass will inspire a new generation of artists.

Oy oy oy… And people wonder why Southerners occasionally just wig out…

Rather than get into the obvious questions (How many random New Yorkers would one have to quiz on the subway before someone called out the right name? And how, exactly, is Glass’ bedraggled visage supposed to inspire new generations of artists? Will something in his expression cause our musically inclined Southern brethren to put down their untuned banjos, throw away their Confederate flags and start writing minimalist compositions in the margins of their NASCAR magazines?), I’d like to turn this a bit:

How do you like this year’s poster?

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On public radio this a.m., I heard a show called “The MTT Files,” with conductor Michael Tilson Thomas. This one was titled “You Call That Music?” and was about the early history of the inclusion of noise, or imitated nature sounds, or ambient sounds, in classical music. Noise was first written into the music as dissonance in the 20th century. Anyway, it was interesting. Listen to the program and see the playlist here. It ranges from Mozart’s Serenade in B-flat, K. 361 (“Gran Partita”) to Steve Reich’s “Four Organs.”

I’ve heard many things at Spoleto Festival USA and Piccolo Spoleto that blur the music/noise line, although festival audiences in these more modern times are much more tolerant of new music. When it premiered in 1914, Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring” (now a Piccolo fave) scandalized the Paris audience, which hissed and booed and hollered.

Among the fun “noisy” composers/compositions/performers I remember from festivals past:

• Toy concert pianist Margaret Leng-Tan playing Alvin Lucier’s “Nothing is Real,” scored for piano, teapot and miniature sound system that plays a Beatles song.

• William Gudger performing John Cage’s famous, or infamous, “4 Minutes, 33 Seconds,” a piece consists of four minutes and thirty-three seconds in which the performer sits at the piano and plays nothing. It’s not really “silent” because you hear the audience shuffle, cough, stir, and since it was written in 1952, most audiences know what to expect.

• Philip Glass’s and Alan Ginberg’s “The Hydrogen Jukebox.”

OK, so these were mostly a LONG time ago at Spoleto, but I can’t remember the stuff I’ve heard in recent festivals (what’s up with that?).

The place at Spoleto for new music is John Kennedy’s “Music in Time” series. This year, there’s some Stockhausen, some Kurt Weill, some fiddle music, and some accordion (OK, I won’t tell any accordion jokes). The Bowed Piano Ensemble is the one I want to see.

While most of us in the Lowcountry are still asking “When does it start?” The organizers of Spoleto and Piccolo are already marking things off the “to-do” list: Performers recruited; venues booked; schedules printed. But, uh, it’s a pretty long list. I have trouble getting all six members of my family somewhere on time. Can you imagine the logistics faced not only by festival staff, but venue directors, performers’ managers, and set builders? Even local restaurants and hotels will be adjusting schedules to handle the crowds that are sure to come.It’s not unusual to hear us residents bemoan the traffic and crowded sidewalks and packed establishments. I personally enjoy a good rant about how inconvenienced we are. It’s second only to complaints about the heat and humidity. But there’s an excitement about the festivals that, if you let it, can energize or even thrill you. The Lowcountry, for a little while, is center stage of the arts world. We can see world-class performances and watch our own stars shine. We get to show off our corner of the world: fabulous food, gracious hospitality, talented artists, steamy weather and beautiful surroundings, both natural and man-made.

Complain if you like, it’s probably expected. But deep down, feel a bit of hometown pride. Lucky us. We live here.

So who in Charleston has seen Francis “Chip” Menotti, the adopted son of the late Gian Carlo Menotti?

The answer is Ali Rahnamoon, the longtime pastry chef at Saffron’s restaurant on East Bay Street near the Gaillard Auditorium. Rahnamoon remembers serving food to Gian Carlo Menotti back before the Pulitzer Prize-winning founder of the Spoleto festivals in both Italy and Charleston broke off his relationship with Spoleto Festival USA in 1993.

Said Rahnamoon: “Chip was in here last week, around April 11 or 12, and had a cup of coffee. He told me he was visiting with friends in Charleston and was staying the week at Wild Dunes.”

However, no one else seems to know anything about Chip’s mysterious visit to this city he once left on such bad terms. Redden was out of his New York office at Lincoln Center and could no be reached for comment. Paula Edwards, head of public relations for Spoleto Festival USA, said she knew nothing of Chip Menotti’s alleged visit. Same with Susan Ravenel, a longtime board member who recently rotated off the board. “I’m sure I would have heard,” Ravenel said.

Redden was in town on April 11 for a press conference and the public unveiling of the official 2007 Spoleto poster and didn’t mention any visit from Chip Menotti to the press.

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Piccolo Spoleto 2007 announced its full schedule today.

Find it at here .The 2007 poster for Piccolo is Rembrandt’s Favorite” by Elaine Berlin.