There’s a pipsqueak of a flute, just a foot long and barely thicker inside than a reed of grass. There are flutes twisted into triangles and other geometric shapes to fit the performers’ mouths. And ...
Hilary Abigana lifts the golden flute to her lips and gently blows. And for a few magical seconds, the room resounds with melodies rich and sweet. It doesn’t take long for Abigana to make her point.
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