FRIDAY 2ND DECEMBER
Where is the supressed hysteria that should
be informing the staff as they approach a holiday? OK, albeit a strange holiday in which we put
in guest appearances at various points during our time off, but nevertheless a
holiday.
There is no evidence of the smiling face,
the lighter step the cheery aside which would tell one that there is a period
of time when we do not have to come into this benighted place. Nothing!
Most strange.
My time off is already being formed by
visits to Barcelona for culture and consumerism. The most intriguing activity is something
that will push my comfort zone to its widest extent: a watercolour class. I have, of course been inveigled into this by
Suzanne who tempted me with the promise of a decent lunch, but I am already
having misgivings, as my level of practical artistic ability is woefully low,
especially when demonstrated in a public arena.
I think that being interested in the
history of art makes it even more difficult to express yourself in any of the
media that you have studied in the great art galleries of the bits of Europe
that I have visited. Watercolours,
particularly are a very English area of expertise with the great exponents of
the art towering over their foreign contemporaries in the eighteenth to the
nineteenth centuries – arguably the only time in the history of art that
British painting led the world! And now
me! Continuing (or finishing) the Great Tradition!
I escaped going Christmas shopping last
night. A lucky escape, but I will not
trust on my luck to continue indefinitely.
I do enjoy shopping – but with other shoppers, not with a person who
regards shops as a necessary evil which should be used in a crudely utilitarian
way and then spurned utterly. This
approach makes what is already a fairly stressful experience something of a
torment when one’s natural inclination is to wander and gaze and handle and
dawdle.
This “holiday” is the perfect time for the
resurrection of the Christmas tree, but I would really like to buy something
new to give me the impetus to decorate it!
SATURDAY 3RD DECEMBER
No lazing in bed for me – well a couple of
hours extra, it is after all the weekend – and ready waiting on a cold station
for the Barcelona train to come in.
A metro ride from the central station and I
was outside El Corte Ingles on the Diagonal waiting for Irene to begin the
Great Shop.
We were meeting to ransack a massive
shopping centre on the Diagonal, ostensibly for Irene to amass the Christmas
presents necessary to make her forthcoming visit to the UK a success. She leaves on Christmas Eve so there is not
much opportunity to rush into Tesco and find those little gifts to make the
season supportable.
In something of a first I spent hours in
the place and bought nothing. I did however
encourage Irene to get rid of a reassuringly large amount of cash!
The only time I was tempted was in an
upmarket version of Habitat where I saw Cava glasses of original design with a
fluted conical base and a vaguely tulip shaped top with an irregular rim. How I resisted I know not, but my decision to
leave the purchase “until later” ensured that they stayed in the shop as, by
the time I left I was positively crucified with exhaustion!
The Lebanese meal was a restful and
delicious interlude.
I might go back for the glasses. There is parking near.
SUNDAY 4TH DECEMBER
Up even earlier today to get to Barcelona
at a reasonable hour. Well, an
unreasonable hour considering this is the holiday weekend.
Today was given over to a watercolour
class. This was a suggestion of Suzanne,
and one which I enthusiastically fell in with.
My enthusiasm was tested sitting in the shade on a cold but bright
morning.
After a morning coffee with Suzanne in the
sun I felt better.
The workshop was held in a friend’s flat.
The flat was on the third floor – without a
lift.
Just before you sneer at what would appear
to be a whimpish moan at a few steps, I would point out that we did not seem to
get to the first floor for at least six flights of steep steps! I would never, never, never live in such a
place. It is impossible not to feel
trapped in such an environment. Every
movement has to be planned because forgetting something and “popping out” to
get it is a major event! I think that I
would eat out every day for every meal, rather than drag food up x flights of
steps when x tends to infinity!
The workshop (when I had got my breath back
and was in a condition to make judgements) was excellent. Christine, the teacher was a professional
artist and she used her knowledge to take us, gently and easily through an
amount of information that I would be proud to have conveyed to my pupils in
any of my lessons.
We stuck down our paper to the worktable
and progressed, under her watchful guidance, to experiment with washes of wet
on wet; wet on dry; crayon masking; scrubbing; using sponges; using salt
crystals and, my personal favourite, wafting.
I am not sure if this is a recognized term in watercolour painting or
one of Christine’s inventions.
Wafting necessitates the use of a
fabulously expensive animal haired brush which looks more like a cosmetic face
brush than anything else and its use on wet watercolour applied to paper in
order to blend colour before it dries.
We spent a couple of hours listening to
explanations and being shown the materials necessary for the production of
watercolour paintings. Rather
flatteringly we were also given some hints and tips to make our productions
more saleable (!) and how to ensure that they were up to museum standard (!)
Our actual productions, which started from
the “simple landscape” idea developed in very different ways as experiment
followed experiment – with varying levels of success.
For many of us the pure white border around
our works of art, formed when the masking tape was removed was the high point
of our creative success!
Lunch followed with semi hysterical
conversation. A truly delightful day
which, as Monday is a holiday was enjoyed without the teachers’ fear of Sunday
afternoon as, normally, the reality of work the next day drains the last free
moments of the weekend of their delight!
The holiday is a Bank Holiday so everything
will be closed, but Tuesday is one of our occasional days and that day is being
marked by the installation of a dish to get British television.
Spanish television is awful in a way that
Brits find astonishing – and the awful programmes are constantly interrupted by
illegal (12 minutes maximum per hour is the legal limit) levels of
advertising. A recent and most unwelcome
innovation is that presenters of programmes suddenly launch into some
commercial promotion and then, seamlessly go back to the ostensible programme
they are actually presenting.
I look forward to the escape from the tyranny
of third-rate rubbish!
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