In March 1994, my father took me to my first London concert seriously. He played the Vienna Philharmonic led by Zubin Mehta. We sat in the front row to "smell his feet to the director", as he says. With a start, it's hard not fond of classical music.
Today, fourteen years later, repeat the Vienna Philharmonic and Zubin Mehta. This time I failed to convince him to come with me to see her, because there were only seats chicken ... but at least I was invited to the entrance.
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