The Desert of Forbidden Art

http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/desert-of-forbidden-art/

the Schindler of Russian Art, saved 40,000 works (some say stole) from the Bolsheviks.
A movie about this man, and gallery of some of the works.

There is a museum, now, in Uzbekistan . . .

The work of Soviet-era avant-garde artists almost disappeared under Stalin, but survived thanks to the passion and daring of one man in Uzbekistan.

Athens Day 2

Plan A: hoof it down from the hotel to Starbucks and just have the standard order rather than the full breakfast: 1 vente cappucino with soya milk and an extra shot; 1 vente skinny latte; 2 blueberry muffins . . . but starbucks was closed -- rather it was not yet open . . . that is, not open for business, rather than merely shuttered til some later time -- we had waited till a sure time, we'd tho't . . .  we were perplexed for we tho't we'd seen it open from down the street.

Plan B: I said, "the museum's bound to have a cafe', we'll get something there." and we hoofed it over to the National Gallery . . . not in a straight line, for we were perplexed again by the streets. . . maybe our tourists maps lacked a little detail or something . . . we walked the wrong way, misinterpreting several signs, then backtraced past the same monuments, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, etc, till we found the right street and marched on . . . the Starbucks had seemed further than we realized, and the museum was 4 times a far, on foot. We got there and got in with no trouble, but then I couldn't find the cafe . . . "we could look at art, anyway, on an empty stomach" offered Mrs, but I knew that was no good. So I asked one guard. "Downstairs" she said. But downstairs, still stymied, I asked another . . . peevishly, she pointed, right then another right . . . it was like a secret passageway . . . 

this is where we sat, looking at where we had come from . . . down the long hall. We settled for Toastis & Cappucinos Grande . . . by that time, it all seemed really good. Not Amsterdam good, but almost.

Thus refreshed, we headed out into the museum . . . the first thing we saw was this rendition of one of my favorite themes:

Lo, Leda & the Gander

the Gentle Philander . . . 

The main thrust of the visiting exhibit was Paris 1900, that is, the artists of Paris in 1900 . . . art nouveau, etc . . . but the one that grabbed us, that we went back to see 2 or 3 times, was this very large painting of Sarah Bernhardt by Clairin, 1896 . . . 

Oh, no, I don't know why . . . Mrs said, "oooh, I'd like to lounge around in a dress like that" which I admit appealed to me, too . . . she's so insouciant, with her little mule of a shoe clinging to her tiny foot . . . I bought a poster, giddy with the anticipation of it hanging on our wall, framed like our other trophies. Let me spoil the story: it got lost going thru security at the airport. I think it's irreplaceable.

The Permanent Collections are very interesting, if not particularly noteworthy.

As we exited, after buying my poster, we were agog at the crowd. The main first room was totally full of people, listening to a lecture about the Paris 1900 exhibit -- it was the last day, we realized. The line of people trying to get in, still, snaked for 2 or 3 hundred meters out the door. We were lucky to have gotten in-and-out before the crush.

We headed next to the Benaki, which is on the same avenue. . . we'd actually passed it going to the National Gallery. This is not so much fine-art (which we prefer) as it is a cultural museum, but we still found it interesting. 

I took this because my artist daughter is / has been interested in this particular figure, the Earth_Mother . . . I mean, this is a very late version of it, er, uh, Her, but still, there it is . . . er, uh, she is . . .

These Gold Laurel Wreaths would inspire me to super human efforts.

 

I am totally taken by these gold serpent bracelets. Would go well with the gold laurel wreath, if you know what I mean.

I guess the statuary was so dinged up I didn't bother taking a snap . . . there was a lot of it, but all noseless, or headless, or torsoless. We also enjoyed the furniture and coutour exhibits.

When we walked over to Karavitas Taverna, also recommended in the Times article, taking routes we hadn't before, I spied  more street art . . . 

which I just tho't was a funny little character . . . 

but this other face, has some je ne sais quois

It is somehow comforting to know that they call Greek Salad Greek Salad in Greece, too. Unlike French Fries or Brussells Sprouts, if you see how I mean. Uniformly huge brick of feta cheese, onions, peppers, tomatos, cucumbers, and kalamata olives . . . the only complaint I might make, and it really is a matter of personal taste, is that the kalamatas at Doris were better to me, firmer flesh, and less-bitter. This really is the most garlicky & solid tzatziki, ever . . . a little too much, with the salad for us, or with bread . . .  

The fried meatballs had a minty component that just knocked Mrs out . . . they were awfully good.

The lamb chops were, let us say, peasant style, rather than gourmet style . . . irregular cuts, cooked very well, but very, um, gamey. I loved them, especially with the tzatziki.

they gave us a complimentary dessert, some sponge cake with some liquor on it. Entirely forgettable.

Walking back to the hotel, thru the National Gardens, we passed this objet d'art . . . at least 30 ft tall, which makes the photo problematic . . . 

Athens Day 1

 

We flew Lufthansa from Prague to Frankfurt to Athens. What a relative pleasure, compared to the inferior airlines -- we all know who they are. Among the civilities still included are snacks and light meals in coach, free wine or beer, and free newspapers, including the IHT and the FT.


In the FT was this article about an exhibit in Brescia IT, La seduzione di Michelangelo . . . http://www.matissebrescia.it/  wish we could make it . . .

Anyway, we got to our hotel, turned around 3 times, then headed straight out to the Acropolis. We could see it ahead of us, between the buildings, from the street of our hotel, as we walked down . . . it loomed visible, but distant, we had no idea how close-it-would-seem, but be so far to walk . . .  then naturally we were approaching from the north east side, so we hadda pick our way around thru tiny streets and public parks to get around to the south slope where we could actually get in. On the way we passed what we would later find out was Hadrian's Library, from the back. . . it was pretty impressive even when we didn't know what it was . . . but we headed on towards the headliner. . . 


Not ever'thin' is up on top . . .there's two theatres, names of which escape me . . . there's all sorts of areas mapped out on the south slope, a bronze foundry and the such-like, that now are hardly even depressions in the ground, over-grown by weeds. But seeing the intricate stonework, everywhere, no matter how debilitated, is very interesting . . . and the scale of it all continues to amaze, which you realize when you try to encompass it in a photo shot, if you see how I mean... 


the view over and above just the buildings is so panoramic & intriguing one wants to capture it but it requires professional skills, a tripod, a big lens, and access to locations denied the hoi polloi . . . I'd envisioned having a picnic lunch in this theatre, to relive a moment from Goodbye Mr Chips (with Peter O'Toole), but the literature discouraged knapsacks & such-like and we couldn't get in anyway . . . was too cold to sit on stone, too . . .


so once you climb the slope up to the beginning of the summit buildings the large scale of the structures starts to overwhelm you . . .


This is an entrance way to the plateau, giving a whole new dimension (or an old one) to the concept of an impressive portal. In some paintings  we saw in the National Gallery, if I may jump ahead of myself a little, there was a red-brick tower, er, uh, towering above the Parthenon . . . I can't imagine how big it must've been. All gone now, of course... one the size of the building would allow such porticoes to be called ornamentation . . . as such monuments go, pretty awesome. . . it was blustery cold while we were there . . . almost sprinkling and the wind just howling . . . to think these buildings have stood like so in such weather for millenia is almost as amazing as that they are standing at all from the earthquakes that eat away at the edifices. They're apparently always working on refurbishing what has fallen down, and always to the dissatisfaction of scholars & purists decades later . . .  
there's a crane semi permanently ensconced by the Parthenon as part of the effort, plagued of course now by budgetary constraints -- I'm sure they're paralyzed by critics and their own uncertainty of what should be done first and how. Personally, I'd love it if it could all be done over as it was with the fine finishing on the columns and facades that one can see just part of in other places . . . down in the Athenian Agora, there's a building that was used for many centuries that is still in relatively good repair . . .leading me to believe that continued use is a good thing, and quick repair of earthquake damage is essential to that. Under dis-use the building fall prey to souvenierers and  re-cyclers.

At some point I tried to get a candid shot of Mrs -- instead of just the buildings, but when she turned around, instead of laughing as I intended, she made the face I have come to expect when I misbehave . . . 


It's all like the Grand Canyon . . . after a while the mind just blanks out at the majesty and glory inherent in these structures.


So we walked down again -- a relief to get out of that wind -- into the Athenian Agora. This is interesting, too, but I definitely get an overlay of Rome & Pompeii filling in the gaps that are herein . . . they have a map of what was here but precious little left to show of it . . .




There's a museum just off the Agora, part of it, I should say, with the fragments of sculptures found in there . . . funerary objects, even a casket with a young girl . . . the portico has all these sculpture fragments, including the ubiquitous variations of Aphrodite . . . even without heads, still voluptuous and saucy . . . 8^) . . .

 

Then there are the head that have come off statues, too . . . all these missing parts are probably in the Louvre and British Museum, which is nice for them, but really: they should come back here, doncha think?

These are, I think, the heads of Hermes and Herodotus, respectively...

These busts are of two "ordinary" citizens of Athens, well-to-do enough to  be buried in the Agora . . .

And a Pan . . .hey, I know that guy! He owes me money!

We wandered home after this museum, back to the hotel . . . just wanted a break from the cold and the wind . . . we were staying at the Rezidenz Georgio, aka, Melia Athens Hotel . . . on the corner of Aeillo (sic multi option) and the 28th of Octobre. . . we learnt a new rule of thumb on that walk home:
"Never book a hotel on a street with a date for a name".

But, we did get back to the hotel, turn around three times, then head out for dinner . . . saw this street art on the way . . . that is, very-late-lunch. . . the greeks, like most Europeans, like most Southern Europeans, especially, like to have a siesta in the 

afternoon, and come back later, then sup very, very late in the evening. Well, so Mrs & I can manage a late lunch, but that means both dinner and late dinner are ruled out for us, if you see how I mean.

Armed with an article that magically appeared in the IHT in January, we headed first & straight to the Doris.

The beautiful waitress seemed abashed when she told us that there was no more mousaka nor pastitio left, only some scalloped eggplant . . .so we said that was ok, with our grilled peppers and greek salad, plus a little spinach pie . . . 

I told her later, with a mouth full, "that eggplant is to DIE for!". She seemed pleased with that news. We didn't say anything about the Grilled Peppers, but they were just as good.

Read that review from the times about Doris. We were so stuffed after those four dishes, we had no room for the doughnuts, but we saw them, they looked horrible in that good-but-bad way, if you know what I mean.

Saw this sculpture on the way back to the hotel, light is bad, but I'm not sure the statue has earned the stature of good lighting . . . 8^) . . .

Another piece of street-art that caught my eye . . . 

Where to buy IHT in Prague

Where to buy the international herald tribune in Prague.

During the week maybe easier than on the weekend,
some hotels, like the Intercontinental sell the IHT during week, but on the weekend sometimes they open very late or not at all. The Hilton Old Town referred me to the kiosk in the train station (just to get rid of me). The Marriott across the street (down the street from Namesti Republiky) usta, but the last time we went in there, there were no newspapers at all, and my pidgin czech seemed to alarm them more than coax information -- apparently the Marriott does not sell IHT, has never sold IHT, and never will sell IHT.

There are lots of Traffic and Relay mini-kiosks all over town & especially in Prague 1 & 2 .  .  . these are hit-or-miss, one reliable place just off Vaclavsky Namesti on Na Prikope just in front of the H&M. Theres another not-so-reliable across the tram tracks from the Palladium Shopping Mall . . . you're going over there to Starbucks, anyway, admit it . . .

Starbucks is not a reliable source in-and-of-itself, regrettably . . . The one on Vaclavsky Namesti  usta, but I reckon some thoughtless ex-pat was stealing them and several packets of natural brown sugar and napkins . . .
The absolutest, rock-of-gibralter reliable source is the of course The Globe Bookstore & Restaurant . . . if reading your IHT over coffee & a muffin still leaves you unfulfilled, try to overcome your natural reticence and let the Globe comfort you in the style to which you would like to become accustomed. The friendly staff, the - er, uh - comfort food, relaxed ambience, and the availability of suitable reading materials make this the primary source.

Of course, you could always just read the IHT online from your laptop or ipod while you enjoy your Globe Brekky, too . . . for a very nominal charge....8^) . . .

Remember Vietnamese near Bila Labut

What's the name of that Vietnamese Place next to Bila Labut?

Idon't know, says Mrs, I can't remember.

8^)

I don't know what they're trying to remember . . .the old sod, or injustices, or grandma's recipes, but it verges on divine. . . 1st visit we had the prawns . . . if you cock your head right to look at the menu above, on the bottom left . . . I like bun and mrs likes pho, so we didn't look at the menu going in either time, just trusting we could find what we wanted on the ordering menu . . . Next time I will point to the dish in the middle of the menu picture, which is not quite like from Mae's Kitchen in Houston, or Phuong Dong in SCX, but closest I've seen so far in PRG.

we started with Spring Rolls . . . Mrs top fave of all time . . . with the Presque Vu tantitillizations of goodies within . . . next time we'll ask for peanut sauce instead of fish sauce. 

by groping on the menu for bun, I wound up with Hanoi Rolls, by the time it got to my mouth it was almost a bun, no peanuts and no sprouts, but almost enough mint & basil to suit me . . . 8^) . . . they have the squeeze bottle of orange chili sauce with the rooster on front, ubiquitous in us thai & vietnamese restaurants on the table, too, which I have applied liberally . . . 8^)

Mrs poked her pho, muttering, no jalapenos like at Tea Lite in SCX, so she dumped the little bowl of thai chilis into her soup, 10 minutes later she was wiping her nose and forehead, wheezing, ooooh thats good. The other little dish is bamboo . . . she added that thinking it was some fruit . . . i guess it is in a very broad way . . . .

==============================================

January 2011

 Our first visit we had these almond shrimp . . . for such large prawns, they are awfully sweet . . . 

 Mrs eschewed her usual pho for some glass noodles

 I had as close a bun to my favorite as I could get . . . I mean, from Mai's kitchen in Houston or Phuong Dong in Scottsdale, i get shrimp, spring rolls, and bbq-pork all in one bowl, but here, I take what I can get . . . 

Only place in town so far I've found the magic elixir.