Thus spoke the Sphinx -- to Fatemah Farag No one took me seriously when I suggested going to the Sound and Light Show at the Giza Pyramids. "Get a life," friends and family would scoff, notwithstanding my insistence that "a healthy interest in ancient heritage" should be commended as a rule. And dragging a resigned hubby to the village of Nazlet Al-Semman, adjacent to which the said show is held in the vicinity of no other than the Sphinx was the only way I could feel vindicated. There are few road signs to guide you through the ill paved streets leading up to this world-class spectacle, but stopping to ask directions on the way is hardly frowned on, in the end. It was precisely three stops after the Nazlet Al-Semman turning -- right beneath the Giza Plateau, as if to refute every legal and archaeological argument against it, the neighbourhood bubbles with life -- that a bunch of policemen appeared, followed by several busloads of tourists. You are only expected to come in a group, it seems, with a driver who knows his way about. The show starts promptly enough, anyway: you can either call in to find out about times, or click your way through an Internet schedule. The figure on the ticket is LE44 but the actual price is LE60. "Clever us," quips the ticket man. "Why throw perfectly good tickets away just because the price has increased." Such shrewdness notwithstanding, the system is somewhat baffling: foreign- language shows all cost LE60 (that goes for English, French, German, Italian, Spanish and Japanese), in comparison with LE11 for the Arabic show (which is restricted to Egyptians and Arabs -- what about a non-Arab Arabic student who wants to attend? or a Francophone Egyptian?) Logistics fall conveniently into a murky background as you pass the electronic gates, however, and the not-to-be-underestimated vista of the three Pyramids and the Sphinx takes over. "Dwarfed by the city" by day, at which time you reach them through the congested extension of the Pyramids Road rather than by way of the backdoor of Nazlet Al-Semman, in the dark of night the Pyramids regain their smog-free magnificence; and you have the chance to perceive them in their unfettered, not to say original, glory. The brainchild of Tharwat Okasha, former (and first post-July Revolution) minister of culture, the Sound and Light Show was conceived as a way of introducing ancient culture to the contemporary Egyptian after the antiquities administration became a state mandate in 1958. In his 1988 memoirs Muzakerati fil-Siyassa wal- Thaqafa (On Culture and Politics), Okasha recalls taking a two-week helicopter tour to survey monuments -- a task he undertook with the Versaille Palace sound and light show, which he had attended in 1954, at the back of his head: "How profound could be the effect of such scenes on the education of our citizens, and what a way to draw in foreign visitors -- to provide them with an evening of entertainment surpassing what they could have at any night spot -- the voice of history chronicling the events of millennia in sequence, in the dead of night." Today, what is more, in comparison to other "night spots", this show is much easier to get into. According to the ticket vendor, booking in advance is unnecessary as the arena accommodates up to 2,000 spectators. Tonight, a Thursday night, no more than a couple of hundred are here; so you can probably count on a crowd-free evening, though you should plan on going in spring or summer, preferably on a cool evening when the moon is full. Set unobtrusively at the back of the viewing area, a cafeteria sporting a proper espresso machine serves all manner of refreshments including local alcohol. As the lights go out our eyes are drawn into the velvet darkness of the desert. White, blue, pink beams, both bright and soft, dissect the plateau as music and text resonate across the sand, bringing inanimate stone to life -- a process set off by a French-Egyptian committee who, prior to installing the infrastructure and researching the content, joined in Okasha's 1958 tour in search of locations. In the end they settled on the Citadel and Karnak Temple as well as the Pyramids; texts and music were produced by a team of (mainly foreign) archaeologists, historians and composers and pored over by Okasha in person, who also set up a series of academic committees to review them. With a space larger than most (2km long, 900m wide and 150m high), 580 floodlights were needed (that is 29km of wiring, at a cost of LE200,000) -- one of many technical complications adroitly dealt with by Okasha. And President Gamal Abdel-Nasser, in the company of Prince Constantine of Greece and other dignitaries, was among the first to witness the magic on 13 April 1961. "The show was well received," Okasha reminisces: "every minute of applause multiplied the happiness of those who worked to make the project a success." The premiere was not without its glitches: in the middle of the show an urgent whisper informed Okasha that a coterie of MPs had alighted on the buffet before it was officially opened; would there be enough food for the dignitaries? Okasha had to calm the Hilton Hotel representative in question, ordering more food just in case. In the end all went well, so much so that President Abdel-Nasser was to come back 17 more times, in the company of 17 heads of states. It's impossible to say how like that premiere the show is today: a laser component was added in the early 1990s; in all probability both text and music have been modified. The material is somewhat oddly conceptualised. In the course of a 45-minute show spent looking at the Pyramids you'd expect information on how they were constructed, the latest findings regarding the workers involved in building them... No such luck: such questions are dealt with fleetingly, in the most general terms, as but a tiny part of a general introduction to Ancient Egyptian history all the way up to Cleopatra (who is mentioned more than once, an emphasis that jars with the setting). So many climactic moments occur that, by the end, one is at a loss to say what the climax of the show could be. The effect is rather confusion -- and a sense of having been talked down to without learning too much. That said, those points at which the ancient texts are directly quoted prove well worth the journey; and the laser-manipulated Sphinx proves a sight to behold. At one moment his eyes glow in the midst of darkness, however, and the effect is all too creepy. On the way out spectators are treated to bagpipes performance, strangely enough. Time to contemplate the desert: if you have time -- you could do this before rather than after the show -- you should walk around. To the left are the horse stables; the shopping area includes not only bazaars and bookstores but a Hard Rock Café accessories outlet replete with T-shirts and baseball caps, not to mention the stuffed mummy; and there is, of course, the sand... Up the road, if you have the stomach for it, you can bring the evening to a close at one of the fast- food outlets: there are two local grilles, a fuul and taamiya joint and several fresh juice stands. Basic info: Sound and Light Show, Abul-Hoal Square, Nazlet Al-Semman Tel: +2 385 2889 www.sound-light.egypt.com Foreign-language shows can be arranged privately for a minimum of 100 people; they cost LE65 plus LE300 per person.
