As part of my celebrating being able to do exactly as I please as I have my life to myself for the month of August (and I really think this'll have to become an annual treat), I went into town this evening. It costs 30 cents per hour to park in the Polygone carpark after 6pm so it seemed an ideal time to go and see the Impressionist exhibition at the Musée Fabre, especially as it's open until 9pm on Wednesdays.
I was not the only one to have this brilliant idea. It seemed to me that le tout Montpellier was there, annoyingly. I'm not a great one for crowds on the best of days, but in an art gallery it really is the pits to be cheek by jowl with Everyman and his Kid.
Information on each room was painted onto the walls, so I read it carefully ensuring I was not blocking anyone else's view. Were others so thoughtful? Were they bugger! I'd be standing there, and I'm not insignificant to the point of blending in perfectly with the wall, and along would come someone and stand directly in front of me obliging ME to move if I wanted to carry on reading. How rude is that?
Colin Randall on Salut! has asked me to do a guest blog so I'll use that to do a personal review of the exhibition (and I mean personal!).
Having fought my way round, I considered whether I should venture into the rest of the museum, but one march through the ground floor decided me. I can only cope with one style at a time. My head was full of Impressionists and couldn't cope with anything else so I went out and into the shop. There I hummed and hah'd about whether I should buy the exhibition catalogue. It cost a frightful 35Eur, but I did enjoy the exhibition. Furthermore, I always, systematically regret it when I don't buy the catalogue, but at over 30Eur a go, they are quite a financial burden. I didn't buy the catalogues of the exhibitions I saw in London or Paris (Gormley, Weegee, Corot) and I wish I had, except that the combined price would have been over 100Eur for all three.
Well, I succumbed, so didn't stop for a drink in the nifty-looking café outside or anywhere else but went straight home (parking: 60 cents!). On the way home I saw some strange things. I saw a TGV train with no carriages. It looked terribly truncated and puny as it rolled passed all on its ownsome. I was waiting at traffic lights and saw it pass overhead. Expecting the usual train and carriages, and forming in my mind already the scene, I was quite shocked when I saw only the engine, and an image of decapitation came to mind!
I also saw a BMW316i which, if I am not mistaken is the toddler of the series 3 range. It might be low on power, but they had it fitted big chunky 5-spoke sportscar aluminium wheels. One wonders what else was small...
mixing paint styles is sometimes like mixing food styles... About buying the book, our cramped city living quarters make the decision easier!ReplyDelete
As for BMW316i driver, need to check on the color of the car before I give my definitive opinion on the size... of the brain, that is.
What astounded me when I was looking at car prices is that BMW was priced below Audi (in equivalent range).
What does one call a truncated TGV? A TGD (train de grande distress)?ReplyDelete
All psy know about that car-as-per-size thing......and when I see you I'll tell you a very naughty and funny remark made by one of my good friends about Porsche drivers who have the latest model...but are well into their fifties!!!!!!ReplyDelete
Sorry you missed out on the Café at Fabre...it belongs to les freres Pourcel and it is really snazzy.
I do love reading Minter and Colin's remarks...how witty the Brit language is when used appropriately!
As for your writing - no doubt about it, freedom suits you plenty, young lady!!
Minter: it was a boring silver one, and was being driven... erratically.ReplyDelete
Colin: nice one!
NG: I'll do the café next time, with you when you're fit! Thanks for the nice remarks on my writing :)
Sarah, do you mean erotically? (check the silver lining)ReplyDelete