In to a pressure-cooker institution add one perfect family of elite artists: one Russian prima ballerina, stoned and half-baked, one American virtuoso violinist, pickled, one prodigy ballet student, under-ripe but supple. Turn up the heat and while stirring continuously with a priceless antique violin, add fruit cakes to the mix: one fishy professor, nuts and bananas, one half-pint, bad-egg sugar-plumb fairy, well stewed. Flambé generously with whisky. Lightly season with powdered glass and cocaine to taste. Stir well, count to 8...and..."grand battiment". (Serves no one)