Art gallery gang bangs ...

While we were in Europe, we hit several major museums, including the Louvre, the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh museum and the Musee D'Orsay. It's a humbling experience to stand in the presence of masterworks. But what was even more strange was observing the ebb and flow of people as they moved through the museums.

Perhaps the most amusing thing was the massive crowds clustered around several of the great works. The Venus d'Milo and the Mona Lisa at the Louvre are two cases in point. I almost became more interested in the crowd dynamics around the paintings than I was in the paintings themselves. It was amazing to watch people aiming 3 megapixel digital cameras at these masterpieces, vainly hoping to capture that beauty and take it home with them.

Wouldn't it be better to just stand there quietly in awe?

Would it be that hard to remember the feeling you had standing in front of the Venus d'Milo? So hard that instead you spent all your time trying to get it in your digital camera's viewfinder while no one else was standing in front of you or jostling you?

Do these folks really stop to look at the painting they're photographing? Or do they just snap the shutter and set off to stalk the next one. I almost had to wonder if the first time some of these folks would see the artwork was when they got home and downloaded the images to their computers.

Strange.

I also noticed how tour groups would move through a given room, focusing completely on one work and ignoring everything around them while the guide explained some nuance on the canvas. After they'd move on to another room, another painting, I'd close in on the painting they'd left behind, trying to figure out what had elevated it above everything else in the room.

At the Rijksmuseum, this happened in front of Hendrick Avercamp's "Winter Landscape with Iceskaters," which definitely was worthy of close inspection. But there were other works there that I spent time with, too, long after the school of artfish had swum on.

Then there are the solo fish, who swim through the galleries with headphones on, floating in front of a painting, listening to some learned analysis of it and then systematically moving on to the next painting featured on the tour tape.

I'd probably know a lot more about art if I took that approach, but I tend to be more visceral in the way I drift through a gallery. I walk past each work until something catches my eye. Then I move in, read the details and look more closely. In some rooms, where there are a lot of works that I'm interested in, I'll take a slow pass through, reading the descriptions and details posted with each work. Then I'll double back and take a second look, making sure I focus on the art itself.

I get annoyed when someone hovers too long in front of a work (the solo tour fish are often guilty of this offense) or cuts in front of me. I often go against the flow to avoid crowds and have the paintings to myself, even if it's just for 30 or 60 seconds. I guess I'm selfish with the art. I want it all to myself, even if it's just briefly.

Posted by Bob Benz at 7:25 PM | Comments (0)

The Getty

The Getty

Originally uploaded by Suffering the Benz.

Here's a photo of The Getty, which I visited during a recent trip to L.A. That's the 405 snaking up the canyon to the right, heading toward Ventura. I still find it interesting the way Californians insert a definite article in front of highways. It's The 405, not 405. It really struck me when a Californian was talking about a recent trip to Knoxville, when he was on "The I-40."

Posted by Bob Benz at 6:35 PM | Comments (0)

June 15, 2005

This Rembrandt dude is following me ...

I was barely back from Europe when I had to turn around and make a business journey to the West Coast. Turns out, one of my European buds was here waiting for me.

As I was paging through one of those propaganda tourist magazines at my hotel in Santa Monica, I saw an ad from The Getty advertising an exhibit of Rembrandt's late-life religious portraits. Couldn't pass that up, so I diverted to the museum on my way up to Ventura for the second leg of my business trip.

I've passed The Getty on the 405 numerous times and always have been impressed by the way it sits perched up in the hills above L.A. I'd never gone up there, though. It's an impressive facility. And the Rembrandt exhibit was equally impressive.

The exhibit is a collection of religious themed portraits that Rembrandt did late in life. I particularly liked "Self-Portrait as the Apostle Paul," in which Rembrandt looks directly at you from the painting, and "A Monk Reading, Possibly St. Francis," where the document the monk is reading glistens in that way the only Rembrandt can dance between dark and light.

The exhibit had added weight for me, of course, after seeing Rembrandts in the Louvre and the Rijksmuseum in Europe only a week or so ago. If you're in L.A. between now and Aug. 28, this is worth checking out. It's also worth spending some time drifting through The Getty's Permanent collection. Because of time restraints I focused on the paintings, but I was impressed.

Posted by Bob Benz at 9:24 AM | Comments (0)

June 12, 2005

Picture this ...

After several hours of editing, I've uploaded all of our Europe photos to the site. So far, I've broken them into five galleries:

Amsterdam

Tallinn

Helsinki

Paris

Staircases

Also, there are several new pictures in the LBJ and Me gallery. New stuff is on the last two index pages.

Posted by Bob Benz at 5:10 PM | Comments (3)

Busting stereotypes in Paris

The French are rude. They hate Americans. They don't wear jeans. Their dogs shit all over the place.

These are some of the "warnings" I read before going to France. In short, they're bunk.

Yes. There are rude people in France. Just like New York City. And I'm sure they get a little tired of hearing Americans drone on about Freedom Fries and Gulf Wars. But in many ways, Paris was the glittering jewel of all the places we visited.

In a cigar shop in Tallinn, Estonia, we were talking to a British guy who asked where we were going next.

"Paris," we told him.

"You're going to love it there."

He was one of several people who told us that, each with a knowing glint in his eye. I was a little apprehensive. I have no French skills and little patience for arrogant people. Paris had the potential to be a disaster.

But it couldn't have been further from the truth. In fact, when things got a little dicey, a Parisian cab driver came to the rescue, putting the "rude Parisian" riff to rest once and for all.

Lara developed a minor medical problem while we where there, and we knew we needed a pharmacy, probably a doctor. I waited for a cab with a driver who could speak English, hoping he could tell us a few phrases to use to get help.

He did a lot more than that. He drove us to a pharmacy, parked his cab at the curb and went in with us to translate. When the pharmacist said Lara would have to see a doctor to get the drugs she needed, the pharmacist then called a nearby doctor and set it up so we could go straight over there.

Our friendly cab driver then drove us to the doctor's office and dropped us off. The doctor saw Lara almost immediately. In the end, she had her prescription within 1 1/2 hours and the total cost was only a little more than the copay would have been in the States. And three very friendly, helpful Parisians made it happen.

And the other "myths"?

I saw a lot of people wearing jeans, despite reading in several guidebooks that jeans are a certain way to set yourself off as a dumb tourist.

And dog shit? Yes. Saw plenty of that. But no more than I've seen in other cities, even the thriving metropolis of Knoxville. And I don't know that I've been anywhere that loves dogs the way Paris does. Lara was astounded to see a woman walk into a jazz bar at midnight with a dog on a leash. I saw dogs in stores on several occasions. They were everywhere.

Any city that loves dogs the way Paris does can't be all bad ...

Posted by Bob Benz at 5:02 PM | Comments (2)

Stairway to Europe

One thing became certain during our travels in Estonia, Finland, Holland and France. This is a land of a million steps.

It started immediately, when we had to lug our suitcases up three flights of stairs at the Seven Bridges Inn in Amsterdam. Canal houses are tall and narrow, so staircases tend to shoot straight up rather than ascending in leisurely flights. As I was panting and struggling to get our suitcases to the top, I wondered how the hell the get beds and couches and furniture into these things.

The next day I found out.

I looked out our window, across the Reguliersgracht and saw someone hanging out of the window of a canal house, Above him was a pulley. Below, a rope attached to a large package of stuff that was being hoisted skyward, toward the open window. Most of the canal houses have a pulley attached at the top for this. Makes life a lot easier ...

In Estonia, we stayed in a the Old Chapel of Kuninga Apartments, which date to the 1400s. The building has been beautifully restored, but they left a lot of original touches, including a tortuous stairway

And in Paris, we rode on our first elevator of the entire trip. At the hotel. But most of the places where we went sightseeing had other ideas in mind. Notre Dame, Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower featured winding, twisting staircases that ascended to great heights.

Posted by Bob Benz at 4:28 PM | Comments (2)

Roken is dodelijk!

While we were traveling in Europe, Lara and I took advantage of the opportunity to smoke a variety of Cuban cigars in some incredible settings.

In Amsterdam, we stopped by P.G.C. Hajenius, which has been in business since 1826 and features a wonderful art deco interior. We ordered a couple of Montecristos, a few double espressos and sat back to enjoy the place. They have a tobacco museum there that is interesting to wander through, and there's also a display of all the different cigars and gauges they offer. A neat touch: A board room where you can hold meetings while puffing on your favorite cigar.

One thing was driving us crazy in Amsterdam: Every cigar store or tobacco stand we saw had the phrase "Roken is dodelijk!" on it. We finally broke down and asked someone what the hell it means. Smoking is dangerous. In Dutch.

On to Tallinn, Estonia, where we found a fantastic place to smoke a few Cubans. This time we tried the Cohibas in La Casa del Habano cigar shop, which is right in Tallinn's Old Town. They had a full bar and an espresso machine that we kept busy while we were there. The most impressive part of this cigar store is the cavernlike walk-in humidor.

And then there was Paris, where we listened to jazz and smoked Qual D'Orsays at the Hotel Lutetia's piano bar.

Overall, the Cubans aren't cheap in Europe (about $20 each, on average) but they're plentiful and they're consistent. Some of the Cuban's I've smoked in Jamaica weren't too good and I strongly suspect they were counterfeits. I didn't have that suspicion with any of the cigars we smoked in Europe. Just remember: Roken is dodelijk!

Now Playing: Nilentika - Tazana Kely (Trad. Madagascar, Arr. M. Moore) from the album "Happy Camp" by Available Jelly

Posted by Bob Benz at 4:07 PM | Comments (0)

June 6, 2005

LBJ in peril ...

During our European sojourn, poor LBJ has survived two incidents where he was almost left behind to fend for himself, both times at the hands of the dastardly Spiney.

In Amsterdam, we had lunch at a small cafe before going to the Van Gogh museum. We pulled out LBJ so he could bask in the coolness of it all. Then we paid our tab and left.

A few blocks away, Lara realized she'd left our little president behind. She charged back to the restaurant in time to pluck LBJ from a tray of dirty dishes that were being cleared from our table. The waiter looked at her as if she was out of her mind. Astute waiter.

And today, in Helsinki, Lara and I were walking around looking for someplace to eat. We'd already stopped in one place, but it turned out to be a cafe where you had to go up to a counter and order. We wanted full service. So we left.

Several blocks away, I heard Lara mumble something. Fortuntately, I tossed a look over my shoulder to see her walking, very quickly away from me. Then she broke into a run. I followed, worried that she'd snapped and was running off to join Finland. Then I saw her duck into the cafe we'd stopped in earlier, where she rescued LBJ, along we several other items we'd purchased. The only thing she was worried about, though, was LBJ. I've trained her well.

I'm not sure if the poor little Texan will survive Paris. We have managed to snap several definitive LBJ in Europe photos that will be added to the gallery as soon as possible.

Posted by Bob Benz at 1:16 PM | Comments (0)

June 4, 2005

The land of infinite espresso and sparkling bathrooms

Before we left for Amsterdam, I was reading entries in Travel Blog about the city, one of which struck me as odd: "This city is one of the most messed up cities I have ever been in, just because they are so lax on so many things that are illegal elsewhere."

I guess if you focus on the coffee shops and prostitution, that would be a fair assessment. But that's such a small part of Amsterdam. We spent five nights there and completely, utterly fell in love with it. It toyed with us constantly, luring us out of the comfort of our canal house hotel and leading us into a confusing series of serpentine streets. On more than one occasion, we thought we had a general idea of where we were only to discover that we were in a completely different part of town. We spent a lot of time walking, dodging bikes and trying not to get too lost. We also spent a lot of time drinking beer and genever with locals in neighborhood cafes and jumping from espresso machine to espresso machine as we made our way across town.

We also were amazed at how clean the bathrooms were. Even the smallest bar seemed to have spotless bathrooms. It was an amazing thing. I guess we're easily amused.

As for the illegal parts that made the person in Travel Blog so uneasy, it's there. Without a doubt. But it's out in the open and regulated, unlike other cities I've traveled in. It's happening everywhere. It just isn't closeted in Amsterdam. Though I have to admit it is disturbing to see women for sale in windows. Our simple solution to dealing with this was a few quick, prurient jaunts through the red light district to see what all the fuss was about. The rest of the time we spent exploring wonderful neighborhoods like Jordaan and marveling at the incredible art and architecture in the city.

More later. We're in Tallinn, Estonia, now and it's turned out to be even more than we'd hoped for. So far our travel karma has been good ...

Posted by Bob Benz at 9:39 AM | Comments (2)