One Potato Review
But he loves to sing! Problem is no one can stand to listen to him, not garage-rocking canines, or string-playing sheep, or bongo-mad crocodiles, until Igor is finally forced to try his luck in the desert where the sky is “so beautiful that Igor didn’t know if he should feel happy or sad.” And where someone is fated to profit from Igor’s enthusiasm, even if he should need to wake them from extinction. By the unmistakable Satoshi Kitamura, who nevertheless appears to be honoring the wonder – and myriad receptions – of music by expanding his usual palate. What are those, Kandinskys dangling from the sky?
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