Category Archives: Travel

Elevation, Evacuation and Rapture

The day began with a stroll east along the Regent’s Canal to Cambridge Heath and Vyner street, to meet with the lovely ladies of Degree Art, my favourite gallery in London.  Along the way I received an email from Is:

Am currently sitting in the coffee shop on the corner of Vyner St as I had to lend my keys to one of the members of staff yesterday and because of the storms and flooding, the trains are very delayed and everyone is running behind schedule, so if I spot you coming down Vyner Street before I get into the gallery, I might leap out and grab you for a coffee in here!

There had been raging thunderstorms in the overnight.  Nothing too severe to my Midwestern sensibilities, but quite out of the ordinary here.

Sure enough I fond Is sitting in the cafe, and as we waited for the rest to show up, we had a nice chat about art & business.  Then off to the gallery to look over some new artists and confer on recent purchases.  A joined us there, and once all was sorted, she & I said our farewells and hopped a bus down to Millennium bridge and over that to Tate Modern and its new Switch House expansion.

The Switch House represents a significant expansion of the already mammoth Tate complex, and is a stunner.  Rising 10 storeys, just to the south of the Boiler House and Turbine Hall, Switch House springs from large concrete silo bases.  We first queue with many others for one of the four elevators to the observation deck on 10.  Shockingly, each elevator is quite small, claiming a capacity of 17 each, but we figure more like 12.  People pack into each car, often to the point where doors won’t close.  The whole lift situation seems poorly considered.

Here are views from the 10th floor:

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A points out just how new this addition is; the paint is still wet!

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The Shard, commonly known as The Salt Cellar.

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The neighbours likely didn’t expect this level of exposure.

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New Blackfriar’s Bridge.

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St Paul’s, across the Millennium Bridge, Boiler House in the foreground.

Once done on 10, we descended to 9 for the restaurant.  We were seated, ordered a glass of champaign, and made our selections — blue cheese soufflé starter and lemon sole main — when all of a sudden a klaxon sounded and a voice came over the PA, “Please follow your steward’s instruction and evacuate the building by the nearest exit.”

Lovely.

We walked down countless flights of stairs and spilled out into the rear courtyard. Here’s the crowds outside

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We did ultimately get back inside, but had to settle for a rubbish meal at Leon’s.  Here’s some of the art from the permanent and temporary exhibits within:

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We did try to go back up the tower, to the member’s lounge on 8, but the lifts were totally unusable, and after waiting about 15 minutes, we gave up.  Grumpy, we left Tate.  “Coffee and cake!” declared A, and off to Paul, a posh French patisserie,  we went.

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Shortly after we settled in to chairs at Paul, with our coffee and cakes, a downpour ensued.  Everyone in the shop looked on with awe at the sheer volume of water coming down; fists full of rain lashed the windows and overtopped the table umbrellas outside the door.  We hid out there over an hour, waiting for the storm to clear.  I went to find the gents, and what I found was a toilet spewing shit into the air, overwhelmed by the torrents of rain hitting the sewers.

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A long, grueling bus ride up to Camden Town took us to Oxford Arms and Etcetera Theatre for Rubber Duck Theatre’s production of Rapture.  This taut little show envisions a near future in which medical wonders have rendered much disease moot, and with the long lives which ensue, there is now a need to cull the population.  The process by which this happens is the Citizen Review.  Our four protagonists are there to represent, to justify their existence.  A fifth, the auditor, is there to facilitate the process.

I won’t delve further into details, but it was a good and thought provoking piece of social commentary, especially crisp on this night of Brexit.  Kudos to the entire cast, who took on archetypal roles with gusto and nuance (more than was written for them) and found humanity within each of them.

London 2016, Day 2, Summer Exhibition

Yesterday was an art and recreation day.  After fitful sleep and early rising, breakfast ensued.  Then a voyage down to Green Park underground and out into the hustle & bustle.  My destination was the Royal Academy of Arts for their annual Summer Exhibition.  This is a riotous celebration of art, with over 1,200 works selected from 12,000 entries by a hanging committee of 10, including architects & artists, sculptors & painters.

Pawn was especially drawn this year by the news that among those selected was Sophie Derrick, six of whose pieces are in Pawn’s collections.  Sophie’s Shift 6 hangs in gallery 11:

There is so much to see in this show, and it fabulously presented.  Here are a few shots to give you an idea of just how dense the show is.  I would draw your attention, however, to how many “red dots” there are!):

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Above overview and detail of The Portrait of Sakip Sabanci, by Kutlug Ataman.  On these hundreds of small LCD screens appear faces of people with whom Sakip Sabanci, a prominent Turkish business tycoon and philanthropist interacted.

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138: When They Come Out o Play, Mick Rooney; 143: Apartment, Seung Yeon Choi; 147: Facade, Tom Down; 137: Lesson, Max Renneisen; 144: Princess Aurora, Stella Parsons; 145: I Am Rick, Kirsten Goemaere.

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637 (left): How To Operate As A Human Artist, Or The Antichton, Alex Anikina; 638: Jane Eyre – What She Wrought, Charlotte Cory.

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599: Snowfields, Nadia Attura; 601: Grand Hotel II, Tracey Emin; 598: Inishowen, Tim Allen; 602: Grand Hotel I, Tracey Emin; 597: Puppet, Stephan Balkenhol; 603: Billiards, Stephan Balkenhol.

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576: Solo In Blue, Eileen Cooper; 582: Luna, Eileen Cooper.

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963: At The Sign Of The White Horse, Tom Barker.  The text reads, “A charming Georgian tableau, a young woman with a familiar dilemma, has she overpacked?  The coach awaits, Tobys loiter, perhaps the situation will have its benefits.”

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1196: Rave In The Basement Of The Elks Lodge, Braddock, Mark Neville; 1197: Shift 6, Sophie Derrick; 1199: Mouthwatering, Oliver Dunsch.

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1139: Iggy, Stephen Haines.

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1051: David Noble Tractus, John Humphreys.

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1109: What Unites Human Beings Is Huge And Wonderful, Bob & Roberta Smith.

Ambitious Isn’t Always Good

Last night brought Pawn the first performance of this trip; Karagula by Philip Ridley, at the new Styx performance space in Tottenham Hale.

I’ve long been fond of Ridley’s work, since seeing Pitchfork Disney at Arcola, back in 2012. That show has stuck with me ever since, and represents a high bar for any new work to overcome. Sadly, this latest from Ridley, Karagula, does not achieve escape velocity.

Last year Ridley’s Radiant Vermin, at Soho Theatre was a quirky & delightful treat, with strong performances, concise direction, a clean book, and good lighting. A highlight of that trip’s shows. In contrast, however, Karagula is quite simply a mess.

It should be a tip-off when all of the review quotes on the adverts use some version of the word “Ambitious.” That’s a good term for this sprawling Sci-Fi/Poli-Sci mashup which takes place in a galaxy far, far, away, in a time other than now (we think) and spans centuries. The dozens of characters are performed by just 9 actors, with varying degrees of success. The fault lies not with performances, however, but with the far-too-messy script and poorly executed technical aspects.

This show is 3 hours long, with a single interval. The entire theatre is rearranged during said interval, going from audience seated along the two long sides of the rectangular black-box space, to all seated along one short side.

The basically unadorned stage of the first half is supplanted in the second act by a cave set, in which the ceiling is represented by a patchwork of parachute fabric, coffee & tea stained in colour, held aloft by ropes. These ropes are affixed to the fabric by Velcro, to facilitate tear-away scene changes. Unfortunately, early in the action, a critical support tore away prematurely, leading to the collapse of one side of the drop, and flooding the audience with bright, white light from the back-lights. No effort was made to correct for this, leaving a blinded audience to squint at the rest of the scene.

There is much frenzied action during this play, which like most of its genre depends heavily on seemingly important exposition delivered in opaque language with unfamiliar or invented terminology. Unfortunately, in this case much of that is shouted, with or wihout amplification, with a very wearing result. By the time of the final scenes, Pawn found he just wanted it to be over, and was actively rooting for the doomsday device to be triggered.

Fans of Burgess, Orwell & Huxley will find many familiar themes here, from milkshakes to Marshalls, teachers to cheerleaders, oracles to animals. Little coherency binds them to the story, and one often might think they’ve napped through some vital section, but with no awareness of such nap.

You’ve let me down, Mr. Ridley. I do hope this show returns to workshop, however, and reëmerges some day, trimmer, sharper, quieter and more orderly.

Baby is Brexity


While there are other reasons for the current visit, one is the incipient vote in the UK on exit from the European Union. There’s a lot to unpack in that sentence, so let’s get parsing. And let’s just focus on that independent clause. It is early in the morning — about 2am — on 22 June, 2016. Tomorrow is election day for a single referendum, the wording of which is, “Should the United Kingdom remain a member of the European Union or leave the European Union?”

First thing to note is that this refers to the United Kingdom, not Great Britain alone, and thus includes Northern Ireland. To remind our readers, Great Britain is the island itself, which contains England, Scotland and Wales. The UK is more completely written “The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.” So even the commonly used portmanteau Brexit (British Exit) is, itself, misleading.

An amusing, or tragic, result of this is that if the vote is Leave, then the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland will become a 310 mile land border between the UK and the EU, a subject of much consternation amongst the populace on both sides of it (both border and vote).

So our two sides are Remain and Leave, so named due to the ballot choices presented, “Remain a member of the European Union” and “Leave the European Union.” For the record, Pawn comes down firmly on the side of Remain. However, in the interest of fair play and the free flow of information, he last night plopped down in front of the telly with A to watch The Great Debate on BBC|News. Pawn is a citizen by birth of the UK, by way of both his own birth on these shores, in outer London, and his father’s birth here. A is also a citizen by birth, by way of her father’s birth in Northern Ireland, but just as Pawn also enjoys US citizenship, she enjoys Australian. A complex little pot of nationalities were thus present before the LCD screen last night. She may vote as a current resident, I may not as I have not been registered to vote in the UK in the past 15 years (the cut-off term for this election).

While much has been made of Sadiq Khan facing off with Boris Johnson in The Great Debate — the current Mayor of London vs the immediate past Mayor of London; the first Muslim mayor of a European capital vs a WASP career politician of fluid stripes and naked personal ambition; the second generation immigrant product of a British comprehensive education vs. the white scion of the upper-middle class, product of public schools and Eton; Labour vs. Tory (although the Tory head, PM David Cameron, schoolmate of Johnson, is putative leader of Remain); the list goes on — there were actually three person sides in this debate, the other four all being women, and it was these others who really made it interesting.

They were, for Remain, Scottish Conservative party leader Ruth Davidson, and Frances O’Grady, general secretary of the Trades Union Congress; for Leave, Labour MP Gisela Stuart and [Conservative party] energy minister Andrea Leadsom. There was much reminding voters of mum-hood and grand-mum-hood, some of which lead to laughs, and there was much clammouring for the mantle of patriotism (brought flinch from A). Gisela Stuart was quick to remind voters that she herself is an immigrant, when it served her ends to do so, and Boris was quick to remind us of the same (her, not him) when it suited his ends, which were not always the same.

Part of what makes this whole thing so blasted difficult for the public is that it’s all just so ill-defined for so many people. The term Brexit, for example, that portmanteau I referred to above, confuses people who might be forgiven to think this involves just Great Britain, and not Northern Ireland, with the difficulties that introduces (see border, etc.). Brexit owes it’s existence as a term to predecessor Grexit, itself a mashup of Greece and Exit, but that had nothing to do with the EU, referring rather to the possibility of Greece being forced out of the Eurozone, and its Euro currency, governed by the European Central Bank. The UK is part of none of those institutions, having its own central bank (BoE) and currency (pound sterling).

Into the void of public understanding of just who is leaving what pour ready vats of misinformation, carefully (or not) fashioned by the two sides, their backers (bankers, unions, business, Russia, USA, Vladimir Putin, Barack Obama, etc.) and the press. There are so many articles, mentions, debunkings, exposés, exploitations, etc. of this misinformation, it can be hard for even a determined voter to get at the truth.

Boris Johnson and friends, for example, were quick to raise the very real spectre of all of southern Europe — meaning Italy & Greece, but really meaning the commonly referred to PIIGS countries of Portugal, Italy, Ireland Greece and Spain — being forced into the worst depression and recessions since the Great Wars, even though, as with Grexit, that has to do with the Eurozone, of which the UK has no part. It may be an effective scare tactic to point to youth unemployment rates as high as 50% in those countries, which is true, but that has no real relevance to the matter at hand, unless one is stoking fears of mass migration, which, Surprise!, is exactly what they’re doing.

The cause and effect of mass migration is very much at play here, as are its bedfellows, xenophobia, racism, hatred. Witness, for example, the image recently introduced by Nigel Farage‘s United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP):


Those are refugees fleeing war in Syria, by the way, which by International law are protected peoples, but Farage will gleefully use them as a harbinger of huddled brown people flooding the shores of England. And mind you, he’s talking just to England here. Scotland is all too happy to welcome more.

The influx of foreigners which has many here upset are those economic migrants coming from other EU countries, those taking advantage of Freedom of Movement, a central tenet of the EU itself. One can walk into a pub anywhere in this country, so it would seem, and be waited on by a Pole, or other EU migrant. But for maximum effect, Farage focuses not on those other white-skinned people, but on our darker brothers and sisters from less savoury places (remind you of someone, Mr. Trump?).

To be fair, there is plenty execrable behaviour on the side of Remain, too. Cameron has proven himself all too willing in this campaign and others, to resort to blanket statements of untruth and conjecture masquerading as fact, to the extent one wonders just how he ever manages to actually win elections. In spite of his own best efforts, it would seem.

Well, enough of this. It is now past 03:00 and time for my time-shifted brain to go back to sleep. Tomorrow waits on the doorstep, the final day of the campaign, and then comes the vote itself.

I would be remiss, however, were I not to mention the assassination of the late Labour MP Jo Cox, of Yorkshire (yes, that Yorkshire, you Downton Abbey fans) who was shot and stabbed by a crazy man, shouting Britain First! (coincidentally the name of a nationalist, racist party) in Birstall near Leeds. She had come for a “constituent surgery” (think “town hall” meeting) to be held in a library, in her district of Batley and Spen, Yorkshire.


A passionate campaigner for human rights, refugee rights, prevention of war crimes and other humanitarian causes, Cox was also a firm believer in the European experiment, and campaigned strongly in defence of Remain. Her death shook the country in ways large and small, and lead at least one Leave supporting Labour MP to switch her vote. Macabre as it is, in response to her death the financial markets rallied, believing the public revulsion at a political assassination (the first in over 40 years) would bring people back to their senses, as it were.

We shall see, the final vote tally should be in Friday morning…

Non Tempus Fugit – London 2016 day 1

For the record; Pawn has flown across the Atlantic 5 times in the past 15 months on United Airlines. Fully 80% of those flights have been delayed by at least an hour, several for 2 or more, due to “Mechanical” problems. Last night’s flight 938 from Chicago O’Hare to London Heathrow was one of these occasions, our 9:20PM departure stretching first to 10, then to 11. I arrived at my London flat in Hoxton at 15:30 rather than 13:00. Oh well.

Pawn occupied himself by Bedazzling his new Samsonite luggage with a likeness of Donald Trump. That should make it stand out on Baggage Reclaim conveyor!

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On the bight side, TSA security at O’Hare was a breeze.

The flight was full, or darn close to it. A silent seat partner filled out the port side of row 25. She pressed herself into the window, and I had aisle. I do not believe she got up once during the flight. Upon our descent I expressed envy at her ability to sleep on the flight. “I took an Advil PM,” she replied. “I actually took it too early, turns out, not knowing we’d get delayed 2 hours!”

A few rows behind us was a chatty fellow, who regaled his seat mates, a pair of young lasses from Brighton, with an unending and unsolicited stream of chatter. He sounded like Darren, from Bewitched. The one with the nasally voice and a chin pointy enough to cut glass with. Turns out he looked like him, too.

At one point he went on for quite some time about a photograph he had on his phone, sent from his friend, from a photo shoot said friend had done with Matthew McConaughey, or Matt, to his friends, which apparently included our Darren simulacrum, to hear him tell it. As I listened (and believe me, I had no choice in the matter, none of us sardines did) it dawned on me that I was in the presence of a human lunar eclipse, for like a lunar eclipse is the moon viewed by means of the light of the sun reflected off of the earth and then, in turn, off of the moon itself. This man was basking in the fame of Matt, reflected off of his photographer friend, and finally off of Darren himself.

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This stream of prattle went on for hours!! It seemed it would never end. His wife and kids decided to skip London & Berlin, will be meeting him in Italy. He’s staying in Shoreditch, at Hotel M. I wouldn’t be surprised if he inscribed the room number for them, so subtle was his come-on.

The walking, talking, mashing lunar eclipse in row 28 just couldn’t stop.

Made a long, long, long travel day even longer.

Demens Fugit

Make Europe Grate Again

On 06/01/2016, A Friend wrote:

Make America Grate Again
Trump Makes America Grate

And he’ll apparently be making Europe Grate Again, too.

As fans of the London skyline well know, the Brits are fond of naming their skyscrapers, with monikers such as The Gherkin and The Salt Cellar for two distinct smudges on the sky.

30 St Mary Axe (The Gherkin)

The Shard, Southwark

Another recent entry is Leadenhall Building, otherwise known as the Cheese Grater:

Give it a fuzzy orange/pink doo, and we can call it Trump Tower Europe.

But enough of this urban history.  I am leaving in a couple of weeks for 15 days in Europe, starting 21 June in London.  This means I will be there when newly elected Mayor of London, Sadiq Kahn debates his predecessor Boris Johnson on the Beeb that evening, on the topic of whether or not the United Kingdom should remain within a United Europe.

Sadiq Kahn & Boris Johnson

Sadiq Kahn & Boris Johnson

Boris Johnson, so like Donald Trump in so many ways (but who once said, “The only reason I wouldn’t go to parts of New York is the very real risk of meeting Donald Trump” after Trump claimed that New York, London & Paris had areas so unsafe even the cops wouldn’t go there) is arguing the Leave side on the so-called Brexit issue.  Sadiq Kahn, the first Muslim mayor of a major European capital, and currently riding a crest of popularity, will argue the Stay side.

One might expect that PM David Cameron be tapped to stand for Stay, but he’s not as popular, and is especially ham fisted when it comes to persuading the public on his case.

Of course such a portentous topic has politicians coming out of the woodwork.  We have Labour stalwarts Blair (the war criminal) and Brown (who’s dudgeon has rarely been higher) on the side of Stay, and just recently we heard from the only living Tory ex-PM, John Major, who delivered this retort to claims by Johnson & team that they have only the UKs best interests at heart, in this case the National Health Service, which they’ve claimed could receive £100m/week in new funding on Brexit:

“The NHS is about as safe with them as a pet hamster would be with a hungry python,” Major said on BBC1’s The Andrew Marr Show.

He added Johnson was a “court jester” but not a serious politician and said that the Conservatives Johnson had divided would not be loyal to him after leaving the EU.

Hmm, doesn’t that last graph sound familiar?

Meanwhile Bertie Ahern, former EU president and three-time Northern Ireland PM says get ready for some Trump-style walls:

We are not talking about freedom of movement between the Irish and the British. If the UK leave the EU we are talking about both EU citizens and non-EU nations still seeking a way into Britain. And the only land border between a post-Brexit Britain and the EU is on this island.

If you follow the logic of the likes of Boris [Johnson] on the issue of immigration I cannot see any other way they can fulfil their promise to control the numbers coming into the UK unless they set up border controls between the north and south on this island. That would be a catastrophe in terms of business and the movement of people every single day north and south on the island.

There are for example 200 unapproved rural roads linking the north and the south. Are the out camp seriously suggesting migrants won’t use these roads to get into Northern Ireland and then try to reach Britain?

So I will get to London on 21 June, the debate is that evening and the vote follows two days hence, on 23rd.  Teeth will grind and nails will be bitten, until results are announced the next day.  What else happens the next day?  Well The Donald, the only man in politics with more ridiculous hair than Boris Johnson, will swoop down on Scotland to occupy his newly reopened resort there in an attempt to further buttress his foreign policy chops.

So before I leave for Europe I need to find a good anti-Trump pin or two.  I’ve already had the experience of being there back in 2000, during that terrible time between when the people finished electing Al Gore and the Supreme Court decided otherwise, when I was constantly being asked how my countrymen could have been so stupid.

By the way, after this stint in London, it’s off to Amsterdam and then, before my return, Brussels, home of the EU government, which should be a really interesting place to be following Brexit/16, no matter which way the vote goes.

And no, despite Pawn’s British birth and citizenship, I cannot vote in this referendum, as I haven’t lived there for the requisite 6 months prior to the vote.

More Art In Amsterdam

Busy day at the galleries today, as well as plenty of walking and some shopping and lots of crowds.

First stop today was Hermitage Amsterdam, for the twin exhibitions, Portrait Gallery Of The Golden Age, and Alexander, Napoleon & Josephine.  Since the largest crowds were heading towards the latter, I started with the former.  Glad I did.  I allowed myself almost two hours to stroll, enjoy and learn in these expansive galleries.

This former alms house for “old” women (those over 50) and later for similarly “old” men, built in the 1850s, have been converted into a truly astonishing gallery complex.  The ceilings are high, the rooms are airy, the installations complex and extraordinary.  An astute eye reveals just how flexible the space is, as large “doors,” wide enough to block an entire hallway, can be swung completely out of view.  These doors, acting more like moveable walls, can reshape the gallery the way many museums use velvet ropes or temporary panels.

In this case the exhibit starts in a series of small chambers which give us the back story of Amsterdam society in the 1600s, the civic councils, guilds, guards, etc. and how members of the upper classes moved between these and through them administered the affairs of the city.  These were Calvinists, almost exclusively, although they did tolerate other Protestants, and (to a degree) Jews.  The city was already an international trading hub — several of the street scenes include men in fez or turban — and the burghers wanted to ensure that the populous was more or less happy and content.  Discontent being bad for business.

The entry salon uses an ingenious system of projections onto painted walls to single out four civic leaders who we will follow throughout the rest of the exhibit.  This technique allows the incredibly well written text lead us through about 125 years of history, from the founding of the Dutch Republic through to the end of the 17th century, and, ultimately, into the present day.

The real focus here is on the appetite of the ruling merchant class for portraits of themselves serving the civic good, in groups, thus establishing their rightful place in the social order.  Almost always, especially in the earlier, more rigidly posed portraits, the men (and they are all male in the early years) are shown in two ranks.  These early portraits are of civic guard units — the long bowmen, the cross-bowmen, the pikesmen, etc. — are analogous to more modern military unit portraits.  As time progresses, and civic attention turns to more than just the guard and the protections they offer, to charitable works — alms houses, prisons, hospitals, etc. — we see boards of governors and governesses (yes the ladies do start to appear).

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After this introduction, we enter a grand gallery which is hung “salon” style, but here that means only two ranks of paintings, even though the room is over two storeys tall.  Here’s an example:

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See, the paintings are just so huge that they couldn’t fit any more!  Each of these is about 20 feet or more long, and, as you can see, about 7 feet tall, or more.  Several of the frames have metal joining plates in the middle of the horizontal segments, as can be seen on both of the paintings closest to us.  By the way, note the two smaller figures to the left of the closest picture.  Those are governesses on this board.  The text explains that the painter was likely not told ahead of time that he was to include them, and so ran out of space.

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The large video screen, seen above, is used for a ten minute long explainer, which plays with the other images in the room and quite effectively draws us into the subject.

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Here the large, central, gallery is seen from above in the second floor chambers.  There are several openings like this, into the large gallery, which allows for clever interaction between the exhibition content in the two locales.  For example, in one upper gallery, text by the side of an opening tells the viewer to look down into the lower gallery and identify both a woman (to the left in the right-most lower picture, above) and to her daughter in an adjacent (not seen here) portrait.

I thoroughly enjoyed this exhibition, and the creativity of the presentation.  Four stars!

Now, out into the city again, and to find something to eat and maybe some shopping.  Here’s a few snaps, mostly at a flea market, along the way:

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I was about to just head over to Rembrandthuis, but found myself standing right outside of something I’d espied from the tram a few times, DWDD Popup Museum.

I honestly had no idea what it was, but had been intrigued by the idea of a pop-up museum (something I’d like to try some time) and figured, “what the hell?”  Again, it helped that I had a Museumkaart, as DWDD accepted that for free admission, as did all the museums I entered today.

So, what is DWDD?  It’s “De Wereld Draait Door.”  I think it’s something like The World At Your Door, a series of galleries each curated by different person, each from the collection of another major cultural institution in The Netherlands.  I say, “I think…” because there was absolutely no English translation available for any of the exhibit text, catalogue, pamphlets, etc.  So, I was flying blind.

Okay, just checked Wikipedia, which tells me that DWDD, “de wereld draait door,” actually means either “The World keeps turning” or “The World is going crazy,” and is the name of a Dutch television program.  I’ve had a devil of a time learning more about it, but did find this list of curators:

Halina Reijn (Museum de Fundatie), Joost Zwagerman (Gemeentemuseum Den Haag), Marc-Marie Huijbregts (Van Abbemuseum), Pieter van Vollenhoven (Rijksmuseum), Jasper Krabbé (Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam), Nico Dijkshoorn (Drents Museum), Herman Pleij (Museum Catharijneconvent), Jan Mulder (Groninger Museum), Cécile Narinx (Centraal Museum) en Fidan Ekiz (Nederlands Fotomuseum).

And this capsule explanation of the project (in a poor Google translation from the Dutch):

The World Keeps Turning tenth anniversary. The moment for a particular idea. Send ten patrons of the much watched television program to ten museums in the Netherlands. Give them free access to repositories and let them choose their own favorite work of art. The result is a unforgettable pop-up exhibition that will take place January 30, 2015 in the Allard Pierson Museum in Amsterdam. A look not only in the treasuries of the ten museums but also in the spirit of the guest curators.


And also this magazine article, which is unfortunately in Dutch, as well:
https://www.scribd.com/doc/254075006/DWDD-PopUp

Anyway, it was a cool, if somewhat mystifying exhibit experience.

After all that, is was back in a big loop around the neighborhood and up to Museum Het Rembrandthuis; The Museum in Rembrandt’s House.  This is the actual house, quite large and grand, in which Rembrandt lived and worked for 20 years, in the mid 17th century.  There’s a lot of artwork up, some of which are by Rembrandt, and some of which were in his rather large collection (he sold other’s art as well).

Here’s a few snaps of his Cabinet of Objects de’Art, which was a large salon on the first floor in which he stored all manner of artwork, books, sketches, models, etc.:

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Also intact is his studio, shown here with his large easel, painting supplies and various tools:

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Finally, the upper level housed Rembrandt’s atelier, the classroom and workshop where he trained his apprentices and they worked for him.  This was also preserved, more or less, and one can take lessons here even today, as several people were:

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From here we’re led into a modern annex, which houses both permanent and temporary exhibits.  The temporary exhibit up now is Rembrandt’s Late Pupils, a hat-tip to the larger Late Rembrandt show up at the Rijksmuseum right now.  This was interesting, but a little cramped.  Did enjoy it, however.

Oh, and by the way, no I am not going into “coffee shops” and getting blasted; not that there’s anything wrong with that.  You know, it’s really something; everywhere you go, in some districts, you smell weed.  It’s kind of odd, that smell so distinctive, and so unexpected in such public settings.  But, it’s really only in some places that it’s so pervasive.  Other places one may smell it, but it does stand out.

Okay, that’s all for today.  I had a blast with this all, and again, get a Museumkaart, it’s the way to go!

Amsterdam surroundings

Wednesday I had dinner at Langendijk, just a short stroll down the canal from here, at the foot of a windmill (yes really).  I had “Tournedos with rosti, baby spinach, wild mushrooms & Madeira-tarragon sauce.”  The “Tournedos” was a single huge blob of beef, but quite good.  Slightly rarer than I might have liked, mostly due to how thick it was in parts.  But the whole meal was quite something.  The mushrooms, mostly hen of the woods and similar, were almost crispy from being broiled in butter; the “rosti” was like a savory potato pancake.  Yum!  I highly recommend this place.

Here’s some snaps of Langendijk and surrounds:

Windmill on Zeeburgerstraat

Windmill on Zeeburgerstraat

Windmill on Zeeburgerstraat, Langendijk is the red-roofed building to the left.

Windmill on Zeeburgerstraat, Langendijk is the red-roofed building to the left.

The canal which runs between my flat at Alexanderstraat and Langendijk, over on Zeeburgerstraat

The canal which runs between my flat at Alexanderstraat and Langendijk, over on Zeeburgerstraat

Here’s some views from my balcony:

Towards the canal side (ESE)

Towards the canal side (ESE)

Towards Sarphatistraat (WNW)

Towards Sarphatistraat (WNW)

Across the courtyard

Across the courtyard

Here’s a few snaps from inside the flat:

Looking towards the courtyard from the hallway.

Looking towards the courtyard from the hallway.

The kitchen, from the lounge

The kitchen, from the lounge

Looking out the windows via the lounge

Looking out the windows via the lounge

Finally, your friend and mine, Karl:

Karl Marx

Karl Marx

Museums and musings

Friends,

Tuesday, 5 May, brought both showers and sun, as well as one big thunderstorm and some extraordinary winds.  Whew!  What a day.  The most serious of the rain found me on line at the van Gogh museum, umbrella at the ready.  Good show, a real mix of Vince’s stuff along with many of his contemporaries, which helps give the entire exhibit shape and meaning, in an art-historical sense.  He and Theo had collected voluminously during the years Theo was selling art, and that formed the backbone of the museum’s collection.  Monet, Seurat, etc. etc. — too many to remember here.

I really liked a couple of the understated pieces,

Small bottle with peonies and blue delphinium (1886)

Small bottle with peonies and blue delphinium (1886)

Sprig of flowering almond in a glass (1888)

Sprig of flowering almond in a glass (1888)

Click the images to see larger versions at the museum site (which is really good, by the way).

Also was moved by this Monet:

The Jetty of Boulogne-sur-Mer (1868)

The Jetty of Boulogne-sur-Mer (1868)

Outside there were pink flower petals everywhere, in blankets, like something right out of an impressionist painting:
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Tuesday was Memorial Day, and a bank holiday, so Museumplein was full of people, as were the museums, as one might imagine.  However I was still able to navigate both Museum van Gogh and Stedelijk Museum just fine.

The latter had three special exhibits up, The Oasis of Matisse, Ed Atkins - Recent Ouija and The Stedelijk Museum in the Second World War.  I enjoyed the first immensely, the second somewhat and the third not so much.

The Oasis of Matisse is to that French master similar both in depth and breadth as the van Gogh Museum exhibit was to him.  In a similar approach, most pieces by Matisse in this expansive exhibition is teamed with one or more by a contemporary of his, and the effect is satisfying, informative, engaging and delightful.  We see often times quite similar compositions, scenes or subjects by Matisse and others, and through their work we see his mature and grow; we are given a fuller understanding of the movements underway at the time.  Fauvism is given a better placement in time and place when we see more instances of it, for example.

There is an awful lot to this exhibit; hundreds of items, in all the media in which he worked, and several, via his contemporaries, in which he didn’t.  There are the paintings, and the papercuts, costumes — both as paper maquette and final product — carpets and textiles, stained glass and ceramics, bronzes and works in marble, and notebooks, letters, envelopes and more.  The portion on the ground floor is given to the more manageably sized works, but the real triumph of the exhibit comes on the first floor, in the main gallery, where the largest of the papercuts are displayed; The Parakeet and the Mermaid, and others.

La perruche et la sirène, 1952-53

La perruche et la sirène, 1952-53

Woman in Blue, 1937

Woman in Blue, 1937

I have seen many exhibitions on Matisse, from a major (>400 items) show at MoMA in 1990, to Picasso & Matisse, at the Art Institute just a couple of years ago.  I’ve enjoyed them all, but I feel this one brought more to the table, and I am ever so glad I’ve seen it.  Much gift store shopping ensued. 🙂

It’s worth noting, lest the reader think I’m forking over Euros left and right to see these shows, that I’m not.  I bought a Museumkaart at Gemeente Museum, for about €60 (~ $70) I have a year of free admission to literally dozens of museums throughout the Netherlands, history, art and cultural.  Since the Museumkaart site is not available with an English translation, here’s a link to the Wikipedia page, which lists most of them.  This is like buying an enhanced museum membership in one card.  Easily the best investment I’ve made on this trip.

Enough about yesterday.  Today, Wednesday 6 May, brought more new neighborhoods and shows, and some good fortune…

I’m so excited; I just booked a seat to the opening night of De Nationale Opera production of Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, directed by Terry Gilliam, of all people.  This is a co-production with English National Opera, London, and Teatro dell’Opera di Roma, sung in French but with English and Dutch subtitles.  Ooh, I can’t wait for Saturday!  I was interested in the show already, and then when I went to book tickets, I just happened to notice that Gilliam directs.

My seat is not great, back row of the first balcony, but given that this is the only night I could see it, I’ll take it.  There were only a few seats left.

Today I went to De Dam (Dam Square), and mainly strolled around the whole area from there up to Centraal Station, down through the shopping districts of Nieuwendijk and Kalverstraat, down to Spui.  Dam Square is sort of like Times Square or Trafalgar insofar as it serves as a central plaza — complete with Nationaal Monument and Palace — and as a tourist center.  There’s Madam Tussauds, the Amsterdam Dungeon, and somewhere between 50 and 100 H&Ms.

Here’s a shop front I think some of my friends would like:

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The shopping districts are a hoot!  I was looking for some heel inserts to help with my walking pains, and there were like a million shoe shops, but all they sell are Clarks, Nikes and Timberlands.  I did find a “Footlocker” which had some inserts, as well as Nikes and Timberlands, so there’s that.  I had a Dutch pancake, simple (just sugar and syrup), along the way, and did enjoy the World Press Photo 15 exhibition at De Nieuwe Kerk, next door to the Palace.

Final fight for Maidan by Jérôme Sessini

Final fight for Maidan by Jérôme Sessini

Istanbul Protest - Bulent Kilic

Istanbul Protest – Bulent Kilic

Russian Interiors - Andy Rocchelli

Russian Interiors – Andy Rocchelli

Side Effects - Kacper Kowalski

Side Effects – Kacper Kowalski

Okay, that’s almost enough to make me put my camera away.  But I didn’t.  Here’s a couple of snaps from the day:

Athenaeum Boekhandel

Athenaeum Boekhandel

Seafood Bar Spui

Seafood Bar Spui

I was going to walk over to l’Hermitage Amsterdam, but then the skies opened up, so I just hopped on a tram and headed back home, stopping along the way to grab some groceries and liquor for the flat.  The sun did come back out, briefly, around 15:10, but then a nasty thunderstorm, with pouring rain and sleet, came rumbling through, so, instead, I wrote this stuff, had some tea and biscuits, and generally relaxed.

Tomorrow there’ll be time for both Rembrandthuis and l’Hermitage, which are quite near each other, and more wandering.  The weather is supposed to improve, so maybe a canal trip will be in order?

Doei Den Haag, Hallo Amsterdam

I am just getting settled into my flat here in Amsterdam.  It’s on the third storey, but with a lift (thank god!) and great views.  If you want to look me up on a map, it’s Alexanderstraat 27, Amsterdam, North Holland 1018 CE, Netherlands, right between two canals, with grocery shops nearby, a windmill down the street (I think it’s just an advert for a pub) and the zoo right across the way.

I had a nice few days in The Hague.  The conference wasn’t entirely my cup of tea, but much more so than any others I’ve been to in the past decade or so.  This was actually two conferences in one: OpenSuSE Conference 2015 and Kolab Summit.  The focus of the latter was on the Kolab “Groupware Suite” which has, at its heart, the Cyrus IMAP/CalDAV/CardDAV server, with which I’ve been working since 1997.  This is the first time I’ve been to any sort of conference about this software, and it’s about time.  My firm makes a lot of money off of the Cyrus software, however, as several of our clients use it (as do we, and myself, personally).  A group of heavy users of this software — Carnegie Mellon, FastMail, Kolab and others — have banded together and formed the Cyrus Foundation to fund and guide its development.  This corresponds with a new resurgence of development work, and I am jumping in with both feet to help write documentation and such.

Anyhow, I was able to actually meet the main collaborators, B from Melbourne, AU, and J from here (Netherlands).  I had a really nice dinner with B, on a plaza in Den Haag, while we got to know each other, tell war stories, and talk about new directions, systems techniques, and the like.  Boring stuff to most folk, but then it was just the two of us, so it was just fine.

I probably won’t do much here tonight (it’s already 18:45, and raining) but that’s okay.  I actually got here a bit earlier than I had thought I would, so while the home owner finished cleaning I went down to the grocer’s and got myself set for the next day or so — breakfast stuff, bread, cheese, fruit — and got to know the area a little bit (the rain spattered glasses didn’t help).  I think I’ll settle in with a glass of wine and a good read, and take it from there.

Tomorrow afternoon I’ll be going to the new (2014) Theatre Amsterdam to see Anne, a big new play based on the Anne Frank story.  The theatre was built especially for this play, tho it will host other productions, too.  I am looking forward to it, as it may be the only theatre I see here.  It’s got simultaneous translation in 8 languages, with tablets, in text; English and Deutsch have audio, as well.  This should be interesting, if nothing else.  I’ve never read the diaries, nor seen the film(s) so I go in having only the knowledge of the story which one cannot help but have as an adult who grew up in the 20th century.

There is a performance of Strong Language, by Nederlands Dans Theater 1 which I’d like to see, but as it has already closed its Amsterdam run, I’d have to go out of town for that.  I probably will (Thursday night).

Other than that, my slate is clean.  I may just sit around and read for a week, or go out every night — Who knows?!?