Speaking of Art....: September 2010

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

The Hermitage, Amsterdam

Oofa! This was written months ago, sorry about the late post!
Last summer for my 40th birthday I received what may well have been the best gift I have ever received for my birthday... a gift certificate with a company called ARTTRA that provides custom private tours of museums, galleries and neighborhoods in Amsterdam. The certificate indicated that I could have a group of up to 20 people along to enjoy this private tour. WOW! I did not know when the best time would be to use it, and each time I had visitors, I did not get my act together to send out invites and arrange for things. Procrastinator that I am, fate stepped in and forced me to use it a few weeks before my big move out of Amsterdam. So I gathered up some friends from work, and luckily my recently married dear friends Heather and John flew in from London for the weekend and were able to join in on the fun. They are moving to Singapore this summer, and I back to Italy, so this was an especially nice treat for us to bid farewell to Amsterdam.

In classic form it was a rainy cold day - at the beginning of June this was somewhat unexpected, but not really considering it is, after all, Amsterdam inside the Hermitage which rests along the Amstel River in the heart of the city. I chose the Hermitage because it was the only major museum I had not been too, and I really wanted to see the Matisse exhibit. After checking in coats, umbrellas and bags, we were greeted by our lovely tour guide, Ana, who led us up the stairs to the beginning of the tour.

This was the only picture we were allowed to take in the museum... in the stairwell!

From left to right: Sabrina, Carlo, Andrea, Jen, Tracey, Lisa, Me, John, Heather, Helena, Lisa, Sue.

The London Police

My second year living in Amsterdam, I discovered a small art gallery called Go Gallery. Run by 2 welcoming partner-proprietors. Around this time, they were featuring the art of a rogue street art group called The London Police. Intrigued by the name, I entered the gallery to check out their work. To say I was blown away is an understatement.
The canvases were playful, yet edgy and very well done. Seriously good lines and unmistakeable skylines of New York, London, and yes, even Amsterdam. However, these were not simply cityskapes. Each one had these playful almost perfectly circular smiley faced characters at the center of each painting, and I couldn't help but smile back! All black and white pieces that depicted happy round faced creatures with landmark city backdrops. With flawless lines and simple statements of joy and invasion all at once. I was immediately taken with their work, and engaged myself in conversation with one of the parters to find out more.
Check out more about the London Police, and their work here.

Things We Put Away

I started this entry at the beginning of the summer. For what it's worth, here it is...

So, once again, I was sent into my mother's basement to check the state of old books I have in large plastic bins. Did I want anything, or could we give them a toss. Sorry, folks, but I cannot toss a book. Out of curiosity, though, I wanted to see what was down there. The first bin had some basic stuff: A D.H. Lawrence, some Freud, a volume of poetry I think I read during my undergraduate studies. A hodgepodge of books from an earlier time, nothing that caught my interest. The second bin I opened had more pads of my drawing and painting. Memories flooding back again, and sheer shock that I still had these things. I must have recovered them after leaving my ex-husband, but did not remember, and have not opened these boxes since. Strange. The things we put away mentally and physically.

And what of the people we put away?
Along with those books, I can associate people who were in my life at the time. People I confided in, loved, yearned for and considered part of my daily life. There were professors like A.L., teaching the course The Philosophy of Seduction who was possibly the ugliest man alive physically, but when he spoke a light from within illuminated him and he became the focus of my young co-ed daydreams. I am sure he had no idea the effect he had on me, as all my sexual urges were restrained to the space between my ears, but I would leave his class in a state. There was my good friend and writing partner, whose name I can't even remember (Rachel? Rebecca?) who would sit with me between classes to discuss poetry and write. She was younger than me by about 3 or 4 years, which then seemed like much more. I was so close to her, we shared countless hours writing together, and discussing what we had written and why. She was a great writer, and I was awed by how someone "so young" could write with such depth of emotion. She was very important to me, and I thought we would be friends for a very long time. Instead I can't remember much more about her than she wrote with me for a few months. There is a friend who I feel like I just spoke to last week, but who I now realize I have not spoken to in about 12 years. We were also extremely close, right down to our families knowing each other intimately. We use to go for long drives and talk about getting married to perfect men, living in the same town and raising our babies together. Shortly after she married and started her family, we drifted apart and mine fell apart. I am thankful for not having children during that marriage, but sorry that my friend and I faded apart as so many important people in my life faded away. There were lovers, friends and colleagues who were so very important to me, so much a part of my life. It's strange to me how those personalities could just evaporate with time.

Now where are they?
Some of them do remain, but most are ghosts, shadows, memories. I remember thinking at one time my heart would break if I lost a certain friendships. Maybe it did a little, but upon remembrance of things past, there are only one-dimensional. What remains are events, maybe the time. Often, memories are peppered with embellishments; additions to enhance a story, or deletions to remember more sweetly, less sourly. Perhaps this is necessary to retain a sense of personal history.

And back to books.
The night I left my husband, barefoot and leaving all my possessions behind, I could almost hear the cries of the books I left behind in the white armoir I bought to house them all. I could hear Constance Chatterly, Romeo and Juliet, Hume, Kant, Elliot, Anais and Vita calling out for me to return for them. I did, but could only take what could fit in my car, and no more. I am sure those books that meant so much to me - the characters that entered my life and have stayed there since - must be lying at the bottom of the Long Island Sound, phantom passengers on the 1962 Chris Craft that went missing along with my marriage.

O.K., so some things, some people you just don't miss.
Huh.

Takashi Murakami - Meets Louis IVX

I just read about Japanese artist Takashi Murakami's show at the Chateau de Versailles. I have been a fan of Murakami's for a few years, and love his explosive style and imaginative work, but did not know about plans for this incredible show. Looks amazing... check it out!

Friday, September 17, 2010

START MILANO, September 17-18-19, 2010

Since 2006, public spaces, non profit art galleries and museums participate in the promotion of contemporary art and artists in this city-wide event.
http://www.startmilano.com/blog/?page_id=222
Click on Gallerie e Programma for a list of galleries and programs (with times) that will be hosting events and expositions this weekend.

For further information, please contact:
info@startmilano.com - info@start-mi.net
or

UFFICIO STAMPA

Chiara Chiapparoli
CH2
Via Savona, 20 - 20144 Milano
tel. +39.328.8967283

cc@ch2.it