SHARING WITH ME

My trip to Lyon was totally unexpected. About ten days ago, I was in a café waiting for a friend and one of our daily papers had been left on the table. In actual fact, « the Cultural section » had been left behind. Opening it up, I noticed that there was a Benjamin Britten festival on in Lyon. This was a must. Having seen the film version of « Peter Grimes  » last year, I just booked for « The Turning of the Screw » and « Curlew River ». I had seen both operas before and the most memorable was Curlew River which I saw with my Mother in the courtyard of a « hotel particulier » in Aix en Provence.  We were both overwhelmed by the music and poignancy of the story - not to mention an ideal setting - a starlit night. I booked for the two at the new Opera House and then for the train and hotel. A good friend was now living in Lyon after 10 years in Morocco - I would see him too. In the TGV magazine there was an article on the Lyon Beaux Arts for the Françoise Dupuy-Michaud collection. I cer

This is what had tempted me…. and I must admit that I do not remember visiting the ING art centre in Brussels. An invitation arrived at the beginning of February - I hesitated for a few minutes - would I go or not? The hesitation was quite simply due to the fact that this is not my period and seeing pretty people in the Neo-Impressionist style has never really appealed to  me. Last year though I had seen the musical « Sunday in the Park » (with George) - Sondheim and had been enchanted. Through the singing alone I understood a lot more how this pointillist period had been developed. So I would go. In Paris it was bright and sunny when the train left early in the morning. That was nice as I was not dressed too warmly. Brussels was freezing and even before getting to the centre, my teeth were chattering. It was not much warmer inside either. After showing my Icom card, I was then informed that my bag and coat must be left in the cloakroom. « But I’m frozen » was the pathetic squea

My intention had been the Bozar  to see the Zubaran. Once again not my period, but the lighting in his paintings fascinates me. We had conferences on him at the Ecole du Louvre, so this was « instruction » more than straight out pleasure. Leaving the ING, I was so cold that as another museum I enjoy was closer, there I knew there would be a hot soup to swallow. On my way over there - five minutes from the ING, there was a big poster over the Museum of Fine arts I noticed as I ran up the stairs as fast I could - «  New Museum opens its doors »……now that was interesting. By the time I had gulped down a huge bowl of indescribable soup which made me feel a little warmer, even if I didn’t know what I was drinking - I went off to look at the modern art section which I always enjoy and was told that the new museum had replaced it. So no Zubaran for me that day.  The entrance hall The entrance to the New Museum was very familiar and I also knew that I had to leave my bag in a locker.