Today is the celebration of Saint Jean Baptiste here in Quebec.. it's probably the biggest provincial holiday.
I don't know what the rest of the city is doing, but I decided to go to the Musee Des Beaux Arts, I've been meaning to visit the permanent (free) collection since I've arrived.
I lucked out. Not only was the giant museum opened on the holiday (it being closed something I only considered might be possible when I was about halfway there), but apparently only one other person in the whole city of Montreal thought that it would be a good idea to visit there. It was deserted.
At one point I had the entire modern art floor to myself... amazing.
I walked around by myself, in silence, in giant rooms filled with the most amazing art. I stayed in the Riopelle room for awhile, and spent some quality time with Austria
and Crosswinds - two paintings I've studied in classes many times. Keep in mind this painting is about the size of a wall. The glacier white feels like it's going to avalanche out of the canvas crush you to the spot.
Crosswinds is all these beautiful splatters and marks of tons of different colors of paint. If you rest and adjust your eyes they flick from colour to colour and you can see each draft of air cutting through and around the others. Amazing.
I saw a Paul Delaroche painting that looked quite like Siv - it was of a European princess.
They had a glamboyant collection of modernist furniture and household object. A chair designed by Frank Gehry, a chess set designed by Salvador Dali, a wall drawing by Jean Cocteau.
Two of my favorite paintings, aside from Riopelle, whom I adore, were by modern artists that I'd never heard of. This is the pleasure of browsing museums, elegant little discoveries in empty corridors.
One was Invitation to the Voyage (incidentally also a title of a poem by Baudelaire) by Edmund Alleyn, who died last year apparently. It's a horizontal work - dark, black and eggplant hues, rectangular, very large. It's of a very elegant speedboat, something you might see Elvis Presley driving in his film Clambake,a minimal kind of 50s design. The boat is pointing left, so the usual left to right reading of the picture is disrupted, as if to suggest the trip is going to take you somewhere unexpected. The pilot's seat is open and inviting - you just want to step into the painting and take off somewhere unknown and foreboding. The painting is big enough to make the boat feel as if it's lifesize. A terrific work.
The other is a small nearly abstract painting by Shirley Wiitasalo called Figure with Blue Arms. It's a recent acquisition of the Museum, painted only last year. The background has a fantastic feel to it - kind of like the feel of a Rothko, only without depth. Again the reading of the painting is unsual.. it has a vertical focus starting from the base of the painting and going up. It's cherry red and then slowly fades into a soft yellow at the type. The figure is largely obscured.. pretty much impossible to distinguish from the background.. incredibly faint. But then there's this perfect statuesque arm - delicate and vibrant - the shade had the brillance of an ultramarine, but I think the actual hue was somewhat lighter, closer to robin's egg.. but with this tremendous brilliance.
I can't truly describe the effect, like when viewing a Rothko is rather this intensely nuanced emotion that kind of overcomes concrete thinking - words and concepts are only vaguely connected to it. But it makes sense just the same. When Burroughs talks about erasing the word and being able to think in a language of pictures instead of words, this is how I feel it might be like.
Another work I enjoyed tremendously was this terrific Self-Portrait by Alberto Martini.
Fortunately the four American tourists who were sitting around the painting inanely chatting about housepets left after a view minutes and I was able to properly enjoy the painting. Indeed it was the only minor annoyance of the whole trip to the museum, which is very lucky indeed. Usually there are several major ones.
So now I'm just kicking back and writing here at my favorite internet cafe and chugging back my favorite Italian sodas.
At 29 degrees you need some way to beat the heat. Resting up for giant bottles of Quebecois beer and the cutting loose that I'll surely be doing tonight.
I don't know what the rest of the city is doing, but I decided to go to the Musee Des Beaux Arts, I've been meaning to visit the permanent (free) collection since I've arrived.
I lucked out. Not only was the giant museum opened on the holiday (it being closed something I only considered might be possible when I was about halfway there), but apparently only one other person in the whole city of Montreal thought that it would be a good idea to visit there. It was deserted.
At one point I had the entire modern art floor to myself... amazing.
I walked around by myself, in silence, in giant rooms filled with the most amazing art. I stayed in the Riopelle room for awhile, and spent some quality time with Austria
and Crosswinds - two paintings I've studied in classes many times. Keep in mind this painting is about the size of a wall. The glacier white feels like it's going to avalanche out of the canvas crush you to the spot.
Crosswinds is all these beautiful splatters and marks of tons of different colors of paint. If you rest and adjust your eyes they flick from colour to colour and you can see each draft of air cutting through and around the others. Amazing.
I saw a Paul Delaroche painting that looked quite like Siv - it was of a European princess.
They had a glamboyant collection of modernist furniture and household object. A chair designed by Frank Gehry, a chess set designed by Salvador Dali, a wall drawing by Jean Cocteau.
Two of my favorite paintings, aside from Riopelle, whom I adore, were by modern artists that I'd never heard of. This is the pleasure of browsing museums, elegant little discoveries in empty corridors.
One was Invitation to the Voyage (incidentally also a title of a poem by Baudelaire) by Edmund Alleyn, who died last year apparently. It's a horizontal work - dark, black and eggplant hues, rectangular, very large. It's of a very elegant speedboat, something you might see Elvis Presley driving in his film Clambake,a minimal kind of 50s design. The boat is pointing left, so the usual left to right reading of the picture is disrupted, as if to suggest the trip is going to take you somewhere unexpected. The pilot's seat is open and inviting - you just want to step into the painting and take off somewhere unknown and foreboding. The painting is big enough to make the boat feel as if it's lifesize. A terrific work.
The other is a small nearly abstract painting by Shirley Wiitasalo called Figure with Blue Arms. It's a recent acquisition of the Museum, painted only last year. The background has a fantastic feel to it - kind of like the feel of a Rothko, only without depth. Again the reading of the painting is unsual.. it has a vertical focus starting from the base of the painting and going up. It's cherry red and then slowly fades into a soft yellow at the type. The figure is largely obscured.. pretty much impossible to distinguish from the background.. incredibly faint. But then there's this perfect statuesque arm - delicate and vibrant - the shade had the brillance of an ultramarine, but I think the actual hue was somewhat lighter, closer to robin's egg.. but with this tremendous brilliance.
I can't truly describe the effect, like when viewing a Rothko is rather this intensely nuanced emotion that kind of overcomes concrete thinking - words and concepts are only vaguely connected to it. But it makes sense just the same. When Burroughs talks about erasing the word and being able to think in a language of pictures instead of words, this is how I feel it might be like.
Another work I enjoyed tremendously was this terrific Self-Portrait by Alberto Martini.
Fortunately the four American tourists who were sitting around the painting inanely chatting about housepets left after a view minutes and I was able to properly enjoy the painting. Indeed it was the only minor annoyance of the whole trip to the museum, which is very lucky indeed. Usually there are several major ones.
So now I'm just kicking back and writing here at my favorite internet cafe and chugging back my favorite Italian sodas.
At 29 degrees you need some way to beat the heat. Resting up for giant bottles of Quebecois beer and the cutting loose that I'll surely be doing tonight.
VIEW 25 of 42 COMMENTS
Good luck though.
Also, don't expect a response any time soon, because he's in europe.