Suddenly things become just that little bit more real.
‘Real’ that is until you remember that you have no money and money is what you need to make a scholastic dream a reality.
This is a way of saying that I have seen a place which could be transformed into a school with only the injection of that commodity which in our case we have not got: money.
Even the mere fact of somewhere which might be useful is enough to give the reality filter another tweak. I shall continue to dream on!
Today is the sort of grudgingly overcast day which drags in enthusiasm and flattens it, in the same way in which the quality of the light drains colour and makes things appear much more two dimensional. It is perhaps a fitting counterpoint to my enthusiasm, the climatic equivalent of the person who rode behind Roman emperors during triumphal processions and whispered in their ears, “Remember man that thou art human!” though in my case it is more like, “Remember man that thou lack’st money!” Such an inconvenient truth!
Still, today is LWLD (Ladies Who Lunch Day) and my weekly dose of frivolous and otherwise conversation with Caroline until she gets her schedule of English teaching sorted out and reality comes back into force.
After lunch I am inclined to visit Barcelona and become a Friend of MNAC.
‘Real’ that is until you remember that you have no money and money is what you need to make a scholastic dream a reality.
This is a way of saying that I have seen a place which could be transformed into a school with only the injection of that commodity which in our case we have not got: money.
Even the mere fact of somewhere which might be useful is enough to give the reality filter another tweak. I shall continue to dream on!
Today is the sort of grudgingly overcast day which drags in enthusiasm and flattens it, in the same way in which the quality of the light drains colour and makes things appear much more two dimensional. It is perhaps a fitting counterpoint to my enthusiasm, the climatic equivalent of the person who rode behind Roman emperors during triumphal processions and whispered in their ears, “Remember man that thou art human!” though in my case it is more like, “Remember man that thou lack’st money!” Such an inconvenient truth!
Still, today is LWLD (Ladies Who Lunch Day) and my weekly dose of frivolous and otherwise conversation with Caroline until she gets her schedule of English teaching sorted out and reality comes back into force.
After lunch I am inclined to visit Barcelona and become a Friend of MNAC.
This didn’t happen.
But the meal, at an Italian restaurant was expensive and delicious: braised liver with fried pate de fois gras augmented with sweet sauce and pine nuts accompanied by salad with goat’s cheese and the finest chips I have eaten in Spain!
Ever since that man Heath imposed charges on national art galleries and museums I have been touchy about paying to go in to national repositories of culture. When the Tories were finally ousted one of the first things I did was to write to Number 10 and ask that museum charges be abolished. I had a very polite letter back informing me that, with many other tasks at hand, they would be looking at the charging as soon as possible.
Once the iniquitous charging was abolished (helped no doubt by the petition organized by the anti-charging campaign which I supported with enthusiasm!) I discovered that I had a new sensitivity to the whole question of museum charges.
MNAC on Montjuïc is a very fine museum which has an unrivalled collection of Catalan art which should be freely available to all Catalans as part of their national heritage and to non-Catalans to inform them of what the Catalan heritage in terms of art actually is. In either case, it should be free.
The location of the gallery is not in its favour. MNAC is in the Palau Nacional, a building which was put up for the 1929 International Exhibition. It is in an imposing position, situated high on Montjuïc and commanding impressive vistas of the whole of Barcelona. It is reached by walking along a long processional way lined by exhibition pavilions then up an impossibly extended series of open air escalators and stairways until you finally reach the apotheosis of art which is the cathedral like building on the summit of the hill and collapse gasping for oxygen at the final series of steps which take you in to the actual gallery.
This is not the gallery for you to ‘pop in’ and check out your favourite paintings. Merely to get there is an achievement so to ‘pop in’ for a few minutes shows a dedication to art which is surely beyond most of the visitors to the gallery. If you are there you ‘do it’ so you don’t have to make the ascent of the mountain again in a hurry!
I, however, am made of sterner stuff and so am determined to become an amic (friend) and thus gain access to the gallery whenever I want without charge (discounting the amount I pay to become an amic!) and thus bringing MNAC into the same relationship with my gallery visiting as the National Museum of Wales and all other national galleries in Great Britain.
When I said that I would write to the Generalitat to express my dissatisfaction with museum charges, my Catalan friends urged me to do just that, indicating that some aspects of British life could be usefully transferred to Catalonia!
Tomorrow culture!
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