One of last month’s posts from Over the Net and on the Table highlighted inaccuracy – and perhaps hubris – on the part of Te Papa thusly:
“The last major exhibition of European Masterpieces in New Zealand was the highly successful America & Europe: The Thyssen-Bornemisza collection shown here in 1980. Now 30 years on Te Papa….”
Catalogue introduction to the exhibition European Masters: 19th–20th century art from the Städel Museum by the Chief Executive and Kaihautū of Te Papa.
- 1985 Claude Monet: Painter of Light, Auckland Art Gallery
- 1988 Edvard Munch: Death and Desire, Auckland Art Gallery
- 1989 The Reader’s Digest Collection: Manet to Picasso, Auckland Art Gallery
- 1989 Picasso: Artist Before Nature, Auckland Art Gallery
- 1993 Rembrandt to Renoir: 300 Years of European Masterpieces from the Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco, Auckland Art Gallery
- 1996 Masterpieces of the Guggenheim, Dunedin Public Art Gallery
- 1998 Exhibition of the Century: Modern Masters from the Stedelijk Museum, City Gallery, Wellington
- 2006 Works from the Collection of Julian and Josie Robertson, Auckland Art Gallery
It was not long before this was published that I began the uncluttering project described here which, ongoing, has included sorting a variety of postcards I had bought and filed but never got round to displaying (a habit to which one commenter also speaks). Among these were two I bought after attending the Exhibition of the Century, cited above. I had forgotten buying them altogether, but seeing them and even the plain-packet-with-exhibition-sticker in which they came threw me into a memory loop.
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My friend Governor’s Bay Jay has made a short-term house swap and is currently ensconced in Yorkshire, where she is venturing satisfyingly far and wide and chronicling her adventures. I recommend her prose.
Her most recently-recorded visit was to Whitby, whose charms merited multiple posts. I delighted in the images accompanying the narrative, since they reminded me anew of my own journey to Whitby — like GB Jay, from York — in the northern summer of 2000. Since I was travelling in high sunshine rather than rain and snow, this made something of a difference to my experiences, but many things were the same. I too headed straight for the Abbey and marvelled both at the ruins and the view, the former set in motion during the dissolution of the monasteries, and, like other northern monuments, given a general gutting-for-resources (in this case, stone) by locals in subsequent years.
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A word to the wise, said a colleague of mine a fortnight or so ago, the mother of two very lively young boys. Take as many weekend breaks as you can before the baby’s born, because after that comes a period in which you are more or less housebound. By this collegial advice was the decision that the señor and I should spend Waitangi weekend in North Otago further strengthened. As the pregnancy fog, which I understand is said by most researched accounts not to exist, continues to envelope my mind, it felt also like an opportunity to do something involving fine-motor skills — such as driving — before my previous accomplishments of coordination and logical sequences of thought desert me completely.
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I’ve emerged from the last fourteen weeks as if from a haze of nausea-induced amnesia, homicidal crankiness receding as the passenger within shifts its focus to consuming all the calories I ingest. This bilious mélange of ailments has given me some insight as to why earlier societies might think women were cursed by god or gods. As someone who has lived a brain-in-a-jar existence for much of her adult life, it has been a rude shock to be thrown back into continual consciousness of the body in this way. You’ve read enough of these pages to infer what it did to my mental health as well.
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My exchange students and I had our last class together today, although they will be around town on internships until the end of August. We watched Eagle vs. Shark
.
I suspect my end to the session was a bit perfunctory (pretty much “thank you and goodbye”) but I did not want any emotions to run too high. This is the fourth year in which I have contributed to this programme and regular readers know a little of what it means to me, particularly in terms of the friendships and experiences it has brought me abroad.
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Posterous
Self-Portrait with Time Machine
12 December, 2010
in commentatrix,in Aotearoa,traveller's fragments,writing & research
One of last month’s posts from Over the Net and on the Table highlighted inaccuracy – and perhaps hubris – on the part of Te Papa thusly:
It was not long before this was published that I began the uncluttering project described here which, ongoing, has included sorting a variety of postcards I had bought and filed but never got round to displaying (a habit to which one commenter also speaks). Among these were two I bought after attending the Exhibition of the Century, cited above. I had forgotten buying them altogether, but seeing them and even the plain-packet-with-exhibition-sticker in which they came threw me into a memory loop.
[click to continue…]
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