Thursday morning at the Birla Planetarium. We're lying back in our seats, urged to imagine it is the 21st of June. Our journey to the Land of the Midnight Sun begins. It will take us from Hyderabad, through Venice, Paris, Leningrad and finally to the North Pole. I'm excited, and might even allow myself to drown in the experience, were it not for one fairly large problem and one smaller one.
Hyderabad is signified by some santoor-type music familiar to all of us from the days of DD. It fairly reeks of jasmine and sandal. But once we reach Venice, we are treated to 'Woman in Love' in some unidentifiable language. Why? Why?
Paris was some retro-pop in French ( I could tell because I heard the words 'person' and 'chose'. I think.) And I couldn't even distract myself with the stars because on June 21, Paris is not very star-friendly.
On to Leningrad. Who wrote the script for this presentation, and when? Leningrad?! Are we in a Kaurismaki film? What happened to St. Petersburg?
And now we get classical. Strauss, and lots of it. It was a wonder the Aurora Borealis didn't waltz in response.
The music of the spheres. Oh Merlin!