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Salzburg is famous for a number of things, many of them involving music. Mozart. The von Trapps. The Sound of Music. And since 2025 marks the 60th anniversary of the release of the movie, Sound of Music tours have been particularly popular this year.

Our local guide for much of our time in Salzburg, not just Sound of Music-related sites but other places as well, was a distant relative of Agathe von Trapp, mother of the first seven von Trapp children. After she died, the Captain married Maria and they went on to have more, the youngest of whom is in his mid-80s and owns a lodge in Vermont.

As is typically the case, the Sound of Music mixes fact with fantasy in the interests of telling an engaging story, although I found both the facts and the fiction to be quite interesting and was at times even surprised at some of the overlaps.

The Sound of Music is of course not just a movie but also a stage play. And the play is not always presented with human actors, but sometimes with marionettes instead:

https://marionetten.at/en/shows/the-sound-of-music

The movie scenes that were filmed right in the city of Salzburg included the Do-re-mi song in the beautiful gardens of the Mirabell Palace, which includes some rather interesting dwarf statues:

​​​​​https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/zwerglgarten-dwarf-garden

I knew I had a birthstone, a birth-flower and a zodiac sign, but I never knew I had a birth-dwarf! Anyway, another member of the group obligingly took a photo of me with my August-dwarf.

We saw the gazebo where Charmian Carr as Liesl bravely sang "I am 16, going on 17", pressing on despite having injured her foot (ankle?) on the glass of the gazebo. And nearby, there's a building that will open in 2026 as a Sound of Music museum.

During our walking tour in Salzburg, I of course saw posters advertising upcoming shows. One of them, a Mozart piano concert, had a picture that stopped me in my tracks. My goodness, I realized, that's Angela Hewitt! Another Ottawan, a little younger than me, who went on to a successful career as a concert pianist. I had actually thought she had mostly given up on touring; during the pandemic and the great occupation of 2022, she had to reschedule a local concert and around that time, I remember her auctioning off a bunch of her fancy dresses & other performance-wear (possibly to raise money for Orkidstra or Music & Beyond or something?) Anyway, small world!

We drove out into the countryside to see (from the outside) Nonnberg Abbey, apparently the oldest continuously existing nunnery in the German-speaking world. We saw (both inside and out) the basilica in Mondsee where Maria and the Captain were married, and stopped for lunch nearby. Mondsee is really beautiful:

https://parenthoodandpassports.com/mondsee-austria-lakeside-charm/

After lunch, we did a bit more exploration in the countryside before returning to the hotel.

Then in the evening, we went out to a Mozart dinner, which was lots of fun. Actors in period costume performed scenes from Mozart operas between courses, and musicians played some famous Mozart compositions like Eine Kleine Nachtmusik on historic instruments:

https://www.mozart-dinner-concert-salzburg.com/music.html

The following morning, still with the same guide (the von Trapp relative), we got to cross the border into what today is part of Germany, to see Mount Kehlstein and the Kehlsteinhaus (Eagle's Nest), which was built in 1938 as a 50th birthday present for Hitler and business and social hangout for the Nazis. What an incredible place:

https://www.berchtesgaden.de/en/nature/eagles-nest

After lunch, we had a choice of activities. Six people in our group of eleven opted to go down into the salt mine, while I and the other four preferred to explore the town of Berchtesgaden above ground on foot.

Here are some highlights. The places I looked at are mostly covered in the self-guided tour:

https://undiscoveredberchtesgaden.com/berchtesgaden-town/

We got back to our hotel in Salzburg a bit earlier than we had after the trip to Hallstatt I mentioned in my previous blog post. That allowed me a bit of time to explore the Neustadt part of Salzburg on my own, and there was still another day for independent exploration too. But I'll cover that in my next instalment.

I landed in Graz mid-morning and took a taxi to my hotel. Not unexpectedly, my room was not quite ready but I was able to leave my heavier bag at the front desk and go outside to explore the area on foot, armed with the map the hotel provided plus some other information I already had with me.

I crossed a bridge with lovelocks all over the railings on both sides of it and made my way to a nearby art museum, the Kunsthaus. A number of their exhibitions had recently closed and they were in the process of installing new ones, but the view of the city from the top floor was amazing. The one exhibition I did see was excellent too, bringing out the oft-harrowing personal stories of ethnic minorities that I was mostly unaware of. It was multimedia and there were lots of places to sit and watch videos and look at the art - something I definitely appreciated after a sleepless overnight flight:

https://www.museum-joanneum.at/en/kunsthaus-graz/our-programme/exhibitions/milica-tomic-booklet

Interestingly enough, the local guide for our walking tour the next morning said she wouldn't necessarily go there for the art, although their restaurant was worth visit. Well, I beg to differ! About the art, not necessarily the restaurant (which I never tried).

I also wandered a bit through the streets, stopping occasionally to take pictures, see what shops and other landmarks were close by, buy postcards or check out the menus at eating places.

I was back at the hotel by around 2PM, my bag had already been put in my room, and I had a reasonable amount of time to unpack, settle in and take a bit of a nap before the welcome reception and dinner in the evening.

On my free day in Graz, I decided that one place I definitely wanted to go to was the giant bookstore I had first read about in my Lonely Planet guide:

https://www.graztourismus.at/en/sightseeing-culture/sights/buchhandlung-moser_shg_7545

https://www.echtgraz.at/buchhandlung-morawa-moser/

It's a booklover's paradise! And there's a full-service café on the top floor - they don't make you pre-pay for the coffee or food, nor do they get upset if you bring in their books and other merchandise that you haven't yet paid for. Now that's a classy place! (P.S. I ended up buying all the books I had brought in, and they were unbeschmirched by what I had to eat and drink).

When I go to a bookstore in a foreign country, I usually pay particular attention to their "Local Interest" section. That's often where I'll find some gems that I'm not likely to find back home. I also avoid big thick heavy hardcover tomes, beautiful though they sometimes are. If I see something I just have to have, I'll usually just note the bibliographic info so I can order it later.

Interestingly enough, one of my selections this time was a book called English for Fun, geared to German-speaking learners of English who are already at a pretty advanced level (which is probably most of them!)

https://www.reclam.de/produktdetail/english-for-fun-9783150145197

Turned out it was fun for me, too - and also useful! It devoted lots of space to idioms, euphemisms, slang words for body parts and bodily functions (in both languages), regionalisms, onomatopoeia, collective nouns, orthographic peculiarities and more! It revealed to me when German had similar idioms to ours and when they were a bit different (e.g. tongue-twisters vs. tongue-breakers); when there was no real German equivalent, I learned what I should say instead when speaking German.

Anyway, I had tentatively planned after my bookstore & café visit to go back and see the street glockenspiel in action but I didn't quite make it in time. But there was still time to visit at least one more major attraction before things closed for the day. So I wandered about until I found something that appealed... and this was it:

https://www.museum-joanneum.at/en/folk-life-museum

It's a beautiful place architecturally; not tiny, but small enough that I was able to make my way through nearly all of what they had on display.

That evening I actually took a break from Austrian cuisine and had dinner at an Asian place. They had a huge vegetarian selection and I had some very nice rolls that involved mango and avocado, along with a dish of noodles.

In this entry dated August 15, I mentioned that I was planning a trip to Austria:

https://blogcutter.dreamwidth.org/178964.html

I'm back home now and there's a lot I'd like to write about it! Unfortunately I'm still battling jet lag and a miserable cold (is there such a thing as a cheerful cold?) so I'll limit myself to a few observations.

First, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Perhaps in part because it was an alumni thing, they seemed to feel a special responsibility to build in some educational components: hour-long public lectures at our hotels on Austrian history and culture, on fact and fiction in The Sound of Music, the life and death of Mozart, and so on. The travel co-ordinator and local guides and experts were, without exception ... well, exceptional. They definitely were not reading from a script or Wikipedia but offered some real insider knowledge and their own perspectives on things. The travel co-ordinator won me over right at the outset by noting (in a one-on-one conversation) that I was a vegetarian (unusually, I was the only one out of our group of 11 people) and going out of his way to understand my dietary preferences and requirements. And thereafter, whenever we had a group meal, he made sure in advance that the waitstaff were informed and I would be accommodated. Discreetly, no fuss no muss.

Our home bases were Graz and Salzburg and on arrival at each, we had a 2-to-3-hour walking tour of the city core. They're both very pedestrian- and bicycle-friendly cities. (Dog-friendly too, which I was less pleased about, being something of a life-long canine-hesitant; still, the ones I saw were all well-behaved and I just kept my distance). That allowed us to get at least a glimpse of places we might want to explore on our own later on, as we always had a full day "at leisure" to do whatever we wanted. On the other days, we were driven out into the countryside or to small towns and villages near to Graz or Salzburg to see points of interest. Although even there, we usually had a reasonable amount of time to wander around on our own after getting a guided tour.

Okay, folks,I'm fading fast here so that's all for today. Stay tuned for more on how I spent my summer-to-autumn adventure.

Today I want to talk about birthdays. I'll start with this very informal survey - weigh in if you wish:

What is the best time of year to celebrate a birthday? Summer or winter? Is it better to have a birthday close to a time when everyone around you is celebrating (like Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving or a major national holiday? Or conversely, is it better if it falls on a day when nobody feels like celebrating?

Amongst my family and friends, there is quite a flurry of August birthdays, my own among them. On balance, I think I'm glad I have a summer birthday. Growing up, it meant I didn't have to go to school on my birthday. During my 9-to-5 years, I was quite often able to arrange to take holidays that included my actual birthday.

The downside to that, of course, was that if I actually wanted to throw a party and invite my friends and classmates, chances were good that they'd be out of town. Or if they were in town, chances were that I wouldn't be.

So anyway, although I got invited to a fair number of parties in my youth and childhood, I was into the double-digit ages before I held a birthday party of my own.

By that time, we were all starting to consider ourselves far too mature and sophisticated to play silly kiddy-games like musical chairs and pin the tail on the donkey. A popular option amongst teenybopper celebrants in those days was to go out somewhere, like to a show, and then perhaps enjoy a special meal somewhere.

The very first birthday party I ever had occurred in 1965, when I and a small group of friends attended that year's blockbuster movie, The Sound of Music:

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0059742/fullcredits/?ref_=tt_cst_sm

60 Jahre später gehe ich nach Österreich (und zwar Graz und Salzburg).

Next month, I'll be taking a trip with Western Alumni to Austria to tour various sites where the Sound of Music was filmed. And maybe enjoy a concert or two, sample some wine and Sachertorte, see some sites associated with major Austrian literary greats like Musil, Broch and Zweig ... there's quite a bit of "at leisure" time in the schedule, and I'm really looking forward to it.

Prost and stay tuned!

PART I: WHILE OUR OIL TANK GENTLY WEEPS

As hard as it may be to remember now, we did have some quite chilly nights and mornings this year during the month of May. On one such morning, I got up, turned up the thermostat, and ... nothing. The furnace did not come on.

It could have been worse, of course. It wasn't the polar-bear days of January and there was no danger that our pipes would freeze. And luckily, we were still covered by an annual Furnace Protection Plan, lasting from June 1 2024 to May 31, 2025.

So we called in a service technician. In pretty short order, he got the furnace working again and we had the level of heat we wanted, at no charge.

On the other hand, he informed us that our aging oil tank was starting to "weep". Clearly it's not outright sobbing, as the tank, even more than three months later, still appears to be about half full (or half empty, depending on your point of view) and the empty/full indicator has not noticeably shifted since that day, nor do we have a pool of oil under the tank. So he red-tagged the tank and informed us that the furnace would need to be replaced before the next heating season started.

All of which gave us the impetus we needed to (further) look into getting a heat pump. And gave rise to several more processes, involving research, seasoned with a healthy measure of bureaucratic red tape.

We brought in four different contractors to provide estimates. The first was from the same company that fixed the furnace. It was very cursory, however, although they did encourage us to apply for a Greener Homes Grant, advice that has definitely paid off.

The second was from a large company that offered both HVAC and plumbing services. I mainly chose them because we were also having some plumbing problems at the time, involving water in the laundry room and some issues with turning the water on to the outside at the beginning of gardening season. To make a long story short, we were very satisfied with how they resolved our plumbing issues but rather less than satisfied with the representative they sent to consult about heat pumps. I found him to be quite patronizing which for me at least (having been the youngest child in my family) is already a serious turnoff. He asked right off the bat, "What's your budget for this?" and "Do you know what you're getting yourselves in for?" and proceeded to tell us about how he had gone to service other sites where customers had installed systems which he considered to be completely the wrong thing or the wrong size or the wrong something-else. He did get back to us with quite a detailed quote for the one configuration he recommended for us - and then rather persistently kept phoning back and leaving messages up until we were able to inform him (truthfully) that we had now chosen the company we wanted and it wasn't them.

As for contractors nos. 3 and 4, they each offered three quotes for possible heat pump/air handler configurations. Both were locally based companies and I think either one of them could have done a competent job of providing what we needed. What clinched it for me, however, was how well the representative from company no. 4 explained things and how receptive he was to our questions and concerns. So for us it was 4th time lucky.

So I put in an application to the government's Oil to Heat Pump Affordability program (OHPA), which spawned some more frustrating red tape, involving uploading proof of home ownership, bills for heating oil from the most recent heating season, proof of identity, the quote from the contractor and probably some other stuff I'm forgetting. There was some to-ing and fro-ing with the OHPA people regarding what documents were and weren't acceptable, which took up more of my time and life than I really wanted to spend ... but then success, in the form of a grant cheque arrived. We'll still have to submit receipts and stuff after the fact and it's possible someone will still need to come over and inspect the final set-up, but that's at least one major hurdle behind us.

Next week, we've got an electrician coming in to upgrade us to 200 amp service. Then hopefully we can get all the heat pump work done during the month of August. None too soon, as our air conditioner packed it in a couple of days ago.

Stay tuned for more exciting episodes in The Summer of Our Discontent, in which I outline how we were without satellite TV for a couple of weeks and lost all our internet and home phone service for a few days ...
and much, much more!!!

Warning: Libraries and reading may have beneficial effects on your health. This according to a Japanese study:

https://mainichi.jp/english/articles/20250624/p2a/00m/0li/017000c

Interestingly enough, libraries can benefit even non-readers, which I guess makes sense too, given the services and community spaces many libraries have on offer, apart from their collections.

According to this study, the benefits are particularly apparent when it comes to seniors:

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352827325000163

In any case, if I ever reach the stage when I need to be in a nursing home, I'll go willingly ... provided the home has a well-stocked and well-staffed on-site library!

Two weeks ago, I attended the conference of the Association of Canadian Archivists, which this year was held at Carleton University. It was intense, stimulating, worthwhile and exhausting. As it was the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Association of Canadian Archivists (hereafter ACA), this was something of a special landmark event. Without going into excruciating detail, I'll comment on what were a few highlights for me.

First, the plenary sessions.

The opening session was a panel of founders and veterans of the ACA, talking about how things were, how they evolved, and what the future of the profession might hold. Something of an eye-opener, really.

Some of the panellists felt that archival studies were not really a respected field of endeavour 50 years ago when the Association was born, that archivists were just regarded as a "weird sort of librarian" as one of them put it. I discussed in a recent post how librarians' work has historically been undervalued. Moreover, in 1978, when I was a newbie government librarian, our LS group (predominantly female) brought a case to the Human Rights Commission contending that our work was of equal value to that of the HR (Historical Research) group (predominantly male), most of whom were archivists employed by the Public Archives (later National Archives) of Canada and were paid considerably more.

We won. Eventually.

Upon reflection, I could understand where they were coming from. When I was at Western earning my librarian credentials, courses like "Archival Theory and Practice" and "Conservation and Preservation" were optional courses that one could take towards an MLS (Masters of Library Science), which nowadays is more likely to be an MLIS, or Masters in Library and Information Studies. It didn't occur to me at the time that there was no parallel educational stream for those who wanted to focus on the archival side of things, with a view to possibly holding a position within a gallery, archives or museum, for example. It probably ought to have occurred to me, as my first permanent job out of library school was in the library of the National Film Archives - so I actually had a foot in both camps! At that time, the National Library and the Public Archives were still two separate entities, each with its own leader, and I was an LS-1 employed in the Public Archives.

So fast forward to the Thursday morning plenary with noted Canadian author Mark Bourrie, who wrote his doctoral dissertation on press censorship. The title of his presentation was "Tales of access, obfuscation, censorship and secrets in the archives." It was definitely interesting - he's generally an engaging speaker - although I didn't feel it quite lived up to the promise of its title.

A comment he made almost in passing was that he didn't feel we were well-served when the National Librarian and the National Archivist positions were consolidated into one single position, as their mandates are quite distinct from each other.

He's absolutely right, of course. But for a history buff, he seemed remarkably uninformed about how this came to pass. During the Q&A, I challenged him, probably more gently than he deserved, and mentioned the English Report on the Role of the National Archives of Canada and the National Library of Canada. You can read it here:

https://www.capalibrarians.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/englishreport1999.pdf

In 1998, John English was asked by then-Heritage Minister Sheila Copps to consult with the relevant communities in both organizations on what we felt our functions and overall role should be. We were asked some detailed questions, our views were solicited and John English listened and made some thoughtful recommendations. Unfortunately, those at the political level didn't listen quite so intently or if they did, they decided we didn't really know what we were talking about and didn't understand their pressures and priorities. Or something.

Amongst the various views we had, we were practically unanimous in our feeling that there should continue to be a National Librarian of Canada (who should be a qualified librarian) and a separate National Archivist of Canada (who should be a qualified archivist). That's not rocket science. It's library science! And archival science!

I'd been really looking forward to the Wednesday opening plenary, which was advertised as follows:

What if we radically imagined a future where archives were for change? There is a growing energy among archivists who want to promote accountability and social justice. However, archival institutions are resistant to change - as they are designed to uphold institutional power.

We were promised a panel that would bring archivists and scholars together in a discussion to imagine and "critically hope for a future where we can truly support the people."

I arrived bright and early Wednesday morning, only to find the panel had been cancelled. I wonder why?

The closing session late on Thursday afternoon was to be a conversation between the Librarian and Archivist of Canada and the former US National Archivist Colleen Shogan, the one who was unceremoniously fired earlier this year. I understand that went ahead. I was too exhausted to stay for it, but I look forward to listening to it later.

These days, I don't have the patience or fortitude to do extensive genealogical research. On the other hand, I am endlessly fascinated by some of the terminology I see used in family histories. Things like:

Joe Blow was a child of natural birth

Jill Hill was born on the wrong side of the blanket

As modern-day readers, we probably understand what is meant and muse to ourselves: how quaint! We may reflect on how closed-minded earlier generations were. Then we congratulate ourselves on our wokeness at having mastered Equity Diversity & Inclusion 101.

It's true that the euphemisms we use to spare others - whether from hurt feelings, shame, embarrassment or more serious consequences like overt discrimination or ostracization - are very much governed by the era and cultural milieu in which we live. But what we may not always see is that we can get just as outraged and offended today about language usage with no malicious intent - it's just that today we are offended by different words and terms.

Take, for example, the word "queer", which some gays and lesbians embrace while others reject as an insult or slur. Or inadvertent misgendering or deadnaming. Even asking for a person's pronouns is a bit of a sticky wicket, in my opinion. I mean, if a person volunteers or chooses to provide them, that's fine. Personally, I'd prefer not to be asked in the first place. If someone addressed me as "Sir" or Mr. Blogcutter, I'd be a little surprised but I don't think I'd be either offended or flattered. Depending on the particular situation, I might or might not correct them.

But even when folks use the most up-to-date, woke-certified language, there is terminology I find misleading or depersonalizing at best, and mildly-to-moderately insulting at worst.

"Assigned Male at Birth" or"Assigned Female at Birth" implies, to me at least, that the doctor or midwife just flips a coin or uses a random X&Y generator to decide if the just-delivered babe is a boy or a girl, whereas in a majority of cases, there is actually no medical or otherwise specialized expertise needed to determine the baby's biological sex. Yes, mistakes can be made and ambiguities occasionally occur. And certainly there is no way (that I know of) of getting inside the infant's mind to determine their gender identity, any more than we can know if they will ultimately approve of the names that we as parents assign to them.

Then there's the whole range of words we use to describe a person's state of mental health or illness, some colloquial, some technical. The term "manic-depressive" has given way to the term "bi-polar" which I find far less descriptive or evocative - or at least, it's evocative of something other than what's intended. I picture some white conjoined bears living up in the Arctic. Or perhaps a new species of penguin or puffin which is native to both the Arctic and Antarctic?

Another pair of terms I hear a lot these days is "neurodiverse" vs. "neurotypical" (my Autocorrect feature recognizes these words so they must be right, right?) I guess to most of the medical experts, I'm probably "neurotypical". But is ANYBODY truly neurotypical? Is there such an animal? And isn't it human nature to want to be recognized for whatever our particular talents or personal qualities and assets may be?

I'm sure you can think of other examples. Wouldn't it be interesting to know what people of the 22nd or 23rd century will make of the language we use today?

We librarians have always had a bit of an image problem. Back in the days when I was starting out - think mid-1970s - it was mainly a case of being taken for granted or not being taken seriously. It was assumed that our work was essentially unskilled in nature - weren't we just a bunch of women marking time until a man swept us off our feet and promised to look after us, kind of like Donna Reed and Jimmy Stewart a few decades earlier in It's A Wonderful Life?

Even in the 1970s, many of my contemporaries were quite incredulous on learning that I actually aspired to a career in librarianship, even though they were aware that it entailed earning a Master's-level degree in addition to the honours BA degree I had already attained. Added to a slightly modified attitude of "What's a smart girl like you doing in a place like this?" was the '70s-wave middle-class feminism mindset of "Why can't a woman be more like a man?" How can she expect to earn more than 66 cents for every dollar a man makes unless she's willing to do "manly" things like... well, just about anything except being a nurse or a primary school teacher or a nun or a librarian - and go to battle, move where the boss tells her to and put aside any thoughts of Kinder, Küche or Kirche? Never mind that jobs in the traditionally womanly fields are every bit as essential to our lives, and arguably more so, as the others.

So what has changed since then?

In the U.S., librarians and bookish people in high places are still misunderstood, but this time they're viewed as a threat - promoting their woke values, giving people ideas beyond their station, distributing pornographic and subversive literature, maybe even changing the whole social paradigm and making folks question the status quo!

Over the past few weeks, Trump has fired the National Librarian, the National Archivist and the Director of the Copyright office, all of whom are highly accomplished, experienced, educated women, replacing them with sycophants of his own choosing.

A few links here:

https://thehill.com/homenews/administration/5295005-trump-fires-head-of-copyright-office-after-firing-librarian-of-congress/

https://apnews.com/article/trump-national-archives-firings-layoffs-historical-recordkeeping-559027fdd2f634263bea7774a78d66fe

https://apnews.com/article/trump-library-congress-todd-blanche-carla-hayden-cc2154fa8644a5c29d196e505e4faa51

Not that we can rest on our laurels here in Canada. Most federal government departmental libraries were gutted some time ago, along with the Canadian Book Exchange Centre. At least we do still have Library and Archives Canada, although career opportunities may be few and far between.

One story that's still very much in the news here is the liquidation of Hudson's Bay Company. A disaster for long-time workers and pensioners, not to mention historical indigenous artefacts that may be forever lost to foreign private collectors. In this regard, the Association of Canadian Archivists recently issued a Letter of Concern, which you can view on their site here:

https://archivists.ca

So back to the image of the librarian ... I do see our profile being raised, both through recent historical fiction about underground libraries in WWII, factual historical works like Book & Dagger by Elyse Graham, and works of both fiction and non-fiction set in the present day, like John Irving's In One Person:

https://john-irving.com/in-one-person-by-john-irving/

The concept of "social prescribing" seems to be having a bit of a moment these days. You know, the idea of treating depression, anxiety and other mental health and mood-related problems by recommending an art gallery visit, a play, a film, a book, a walk in the woods or a contemplation of the heavens. And while I've never visited a licensed art therapist, music therapist or whatever other kinds of therapists are out there, I do tend to select experiences like the above as an integral part of my self-care.

For me, the month of March has been particularly rich in these experiences, what with a film, an art gallery visit, concerts, bookstore and library visits, book club meetings, a lunar eclipse and a play.

That play was Lauren Gunderson's Silent Sky, performed at the Gladstone Theatre by the Three Sisters Theatre Company,and described on the programme as "the almost-true story of the women who changed our view of the cosmos".

The main character is Henrietta Leavitt, an astronomer in the "girls' department" at Harvard Observatory in the early twentieth century. While originally hired as a human "computer" relegated to mapping and labelling stars and barred by reason of gender from accessing the telescope or doing serious astronomical research, she persists in pushing the limits and ultimately develops a system for measuring the stars and proving that there is more out there beyond the Milky Way. Indeed, she was up for a Nobel Prize but died before it could be awarded to her. That much we know.

But "almost true" is not the same as historical fact, and there was a certain amount of creative and dramatic licence at work too. Most of this was done through the supporting characters - the love interest, Peter Shaw; and Henrietta's sister, Margaret. It doesn't in any way minimize Henrietta's achievements, nor did it interfere with my enjoyment of the play, which I thought was really excellent. But it did pique my interest in learning a bit more about the real story. And here's one of the articles I found:

https://thehill.com/changing-america/enrichment/arts-culture/480762-she-discovered-how-to-measure-the-universe-then-her/

I loved the use of music in the play, and the highlighting of the music of real-life female composers of the 19th and 20th centuries, lost to or neglected by history: Au Crépuscule, by Mel Bonis (1858-1937; from what I read about her, she deserves a play in her own right!); Valse Tender, by Cécile Chaminade (1857-1944); and Thriller Rag, by May Aufderheide (1888-1972). I plan to seek out other music written by these three composers.

In any case, Silent Sky will be playing at the Gladstone Theatre in Ottawa until March 29. If it sounds like your thing and you live in or will be in the area, there's still time to see it!