SHARING WITH ME

Probably done in the 1930's In the 1930's A good fried where I live had left me a small prospectus on an artist which we know virtually nothing about - a certain Marcel Storr. Anne had seen his exhibition in the 20th - an area off the beaten track for me. Today for other reasons I needed to go over there and thought why not? Anne enjoys Naïve art. I am not going to make a special effort to see such work and the small brochure she left didn’t look like naïve art. More as if the artist in question was obsessional about churches and buildings. Art historians or other know little about Marcel Starr (1911-1976).  A road sweeper in the Bois de Boulogne or a road mender as a seasonal worker in the parks and gardens in Paris. He was an abandoned child and brought up by the State in farms where he was beaten. Deaf and illiterate he adored to draw. 1960's? Obviously he was quite obsessional about churches and spires which climbed into the sky. Also build

I get very cross with myself when I have wasted time. Seeing films for instance. The film that everyone goes to and then the disappointment when it does not live up to expectation. "The Iron Lady". Of course Meryl Streep is a magnificent actress and probably deserves the Oscar. (I think  Glenn Close in "Albert Nobbs" is more impressive). "The Iron Lady" made me feel very ill at ease. A woman who was politically a strength for the nation being shown as someone about to enter into Alzheimer's disease. Having lived such a situation myself, I know how distressing it is and all you want to remember is how the person was and not becoming. Not only did the film leave me ill at ease but I found it intolerable that her life story could be illustrated as such. No wonder her family was against the film.(apparently). Maggie couldn't even defend herself.  Then there was Spielberg's "The War Horse". Well that was romantic for you (sic) and the

At the beginning of February I saw an installation exhibition at Macval which left me very perplex. ( «Ephermeral installations leave me puzzled» , 1st February). Yesterday, Gianni and I went to see another installation set up at La Maison Rouge «Neon. Who’s afraid of Red, Yellow and Blue». Many people are afraid of bright lights. I definitely was not. «The French physicist and chemist Georges Claude developed the first neon tube in 1912, exactly one century ago. He unveiled his invention publicly at the Paris World Fair. A few years later, Claude filed a patent in the United States and, in 1923, sold his first two neon signs - reading ‘Packard’ – to a car dealership. The rest is history…» (David Roseburg: Curator) Neon for me has always meant advertising. Flashing lights. Times Square, Boradway - not to mention long lighting tubes which are in our homes. They seem to make a buzzing sound when they are about to «die» or go on and off in a very irritating manner. Even today, I ca

If you want to, you can walk everywhere in Paris. I do. As I was seeing Hector at 5pm and it was just 3-30 and leaving behind a very long queue outside the Jeu de Paume (see below) - I decided to go on foot to the Odeon - some 5 kilometres away. Another wonderful thing about Paris is that there is always some exhibit in a garden or a museum close at hand. Here there is the delight and fun of Kusama following her exhibition at the Beaubourg in 2011. I hope that I will be as energetic as she is when I am 80 but would prefer not to need access to a mental institution. She is very preoccupied by death and says so but when you see these statues, they seem so positive.  

And further on there was William de Kooning  William de Kooning "Standing Figure" 1968-1984 and Magdalena Abakanowiez (Polish and aristocratic) - her statues are tall and even taller. I watched as the pigeons and the seagulls vied for a place on top. After a moment, a seagull won.  Abakanowiez -

Paris can turn from a wintery -10° to a +10° Sometimes I think the + feels colder than the -. It was humid and dreary as I set out yesterday for the «Jeu de Paume» - one of the most important photographic museums in Paris.  Like many of us I had followed  the Chinese Ai Weiwei work and wanted to see his first major exhibition in Paris, «Interlacing». Of course he was not there as still forbidden to leave the country. Once upon a time I was a frequent traveler to China so was even more interested to see what work he had done since he returned from the States in 1993 and ‘til 2011. His blog was shut down by authorities in 2009. Many of his photographs showed situations that were not appealing to politicians, not to mention many of his written statements on political issues. There were not so many people when I arrived outside groups of Chinese. Two women asked the attendant how to pronounce Weiwei’s name, then stood in the middle of the first gallery and chatted about the food they w

On the Sunday morning before I was to leave to come back to Paris, Borgy decided upon Wimpole. As we left early we arrived before the crowds and were able to begin our walk all alone on the scene. 
 Borgy was right to comment that my city boots were not exactly made to cope with the mud and slush on the ground. They were both equipped in their walking shoes. I would cope. Wimplole Hall is a much larger residence than Anglesey. It has over 12 square km of parkland and farmland with sheep grazing upon it. I gather it is one of the largest residences in Cambridgeshire. Begun in 1640 and completed at the beginning of 1800. A National Trust reserve and as such, very popular with the public. In the grounds there are lakes, churches and a folly which Borgy told me once again was something built primarily for decoration. Gentle rolling hills help break the scenery and of course, sheep and more sheep. We have been there many times together and the walk is always invigor

I caught the 17-15 train to Meldreth. If we had been in Paris, the train would have been crammed full but here I had two seats to myself and could start browsing the Picasso catalogue. Too much text of course but it is easier to study the pictures and periods this way, so I enjoy the pictures over and over again. Meldreth and «The Cottage» was waiting for me. The cosy salon with its fire and of course the glass of Australian sparkling wine awaited. There was a lot to catch up on. 
 The following day dawned grey and forbidding but no way we would stay inside. We were to visit the snowdrops in Anglesey Abbey. (In Cambridgeshire). I had not been there since we visited it all together with my Mother in the summer months, what must be well over ten years ago. It’s a Jacobean-style house with 46 hectares of grounds and even a working watermill.  What I found fascinating is that at a very young age, around 30, the future Lord Fairhaven began to create his own home. This was betwee