The Mathematics of . . . Applause

Trumpeting cherubs, gold-leafed and puff-cheeked, peer down from the walls of Budapest's opulent music academy. As pianist Dezsö Ránki pounds and weaves at the keys, his breathing is at times so stertorous one could swear that someone in the audience is snoring. But there are no somnolent spectators here. When the final chords of Beethoven's Piano Concerto in C Major crash out, the crowd bursts into applause - at first tumultuously, but then, suddenly, in perfect unison. There is no signal, no leader; the synchrony is spontaneous. The pianist bows, his pageboy hairdo flopping about his solemn face. He disappears backstage, then returns to applause that grows stronger. Yet as the clapping gathers strength, its synchrony dissolves. Ránki retreats and reappears repeatedly, and so does the rhythm of the applause - one moment chaotic, the next a perfect beat. Then without warning the entireaudience stops, as one, on a single clap.