Doug's Travels

With Doug waiting up Tom and Richard arrive at the hotel after 20 hours flying from Denver. Drinks were poured plans were made and all eyes were narrowing. Off to bed at 3:30 am

Began the day at the Gilded Balloon (this time the right one) meeting up with Ann to attend a presentation/performance by a once wildly popular television personality Esther Rantzen. In her heyday 20 million Britain’s watcher her every Sunday night. An entertaining, but utterly forgettable, series of anecdotes and video clips that were not of more than passing interest to this Yank. 

“Sitting” cast and set.

Ann traipsed off to another performance and I went down the hall rather than hiking over the mound to a wonderful little piece titled “Sitting” by Katherine Parkinson. The set was a room full of artists canvases facing the wall and three blank ones sitting on easels. A man enters and strips to his birthday suit all the while talking with an unseen artist behind the audience. He soon learns that he was hired to sit but NOT nude. A one sided conversation begins only interrupted by another model, a middle aged woman, who enters and takes a chair and begins her own sitting and conversation with the artist. Lastly a young girl bursts into the room and apologizes for being late. She too begins her conversation with the artist. Each take alternate turns apparently unaware of each other’s presence. The talks become increasingly intimate and revealing about model-the. Artist never speaks – and, it becomes clear that the two women have an intimate connection with the artist while the male model reveals emotional conflicts with his wife and hope for his soon to be born daughter. None of these connections are resolved as the session end and they depart. Leaving us to wonder if they ever will or could be.

The two women were well acted and their emotions well drawn. The man less so. Still, very captivating and as the play concludes three very well painted portraits of the actors are projected onto the blank canvases at the back of the state. A visual desert for this captivating performance.

I walked out to get some air only to realize that my next play “Games” started in 10 minutes. I found myself at the very end of the Que when my position moved up by one when Alyesaha who I met only yesterday joined the line. I had company for this very powerfully acted play about two young German Jewish athletes hoping to compete in the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin. A tall, blond, blue-eyed fencer with a Jewish father insists she is uninterested in politics which has no place in athletics. The other is a dark haired Jewish high jumper who hopes to get to compete and win a medal by her skill and shear force of will. Both are ultimately disappointed. The fencer competes but only wins silver, shakes hands with Hitler, and raises the Nazi solute ultimately regretting it all. The high jumper never competes but retainers her honor. Powerfully acted on a virtually blank stage. Captivating, but the two or three lines aimed at a Trump/Hitler comparison were unnecessary and the theme was in the end too obvious.

Friday and Saturday: 29,000 steps!

Had dinner with Ann at a fish restaurant literally next door to my air B and B. The food was excellent but the conversation proved even better; both of us catching up on the weeks events and also 40 years of friendship. We walked around the corner to the Hilton hotel where we saw a satire about Brixit staged in a hotel room. A very amateur production that was rarely funny and predictably one sided. One hour long it felt like two. Still a good day of theater and friendship.

Waiting for an Uber

Saturday my last full day in Scotland began with meeting Ann at her place and then getting an Uber to a reprise visit to the modern art museum. Ann wanted to see the Nolde’s and how could say no to seeing some lucious paintings one more time?

Ann NOT expecting any miracles.

We then went back across town to see my last play of my Frindge festival experience. 

“Revenants,” in yet another gilded balloon venue, was well done for the first hour where we found England’s Queen Mary on a picnic in the woods with another kind of queen and her Indian chauffeur. They are discussing the tragedy of the war taking place across the channel. Mary tears up as the names of her sons, killed in the fighting are mourned. Suddenly a black American soldier burst onto the scene and points his tommy gun at the queen and her entourage mistaking them for spies. (not very plausible looking at everyone’s dress and age) Things settle down and the plot focuses on the injustices inflicted on African.

Cast of “Revenants”

Americans both home in America and just down the road in the army camps controlled by racist NCO’s and officers. The gay friend of the queen tries to compare his situation with the soldier’s but the play tries too hard to address too many problems and the last half of the production fails to gel. Too much to resolve in one little play. Good acting by Queen Mary and the soldier and a cleaver set.

Not the best piece with which to end to my week but a darn good try. 

It just confirmed what I said on the first day. Great Art is damn hard make. But it was wonderful to watch the many honest attempts at the 2018 Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

Arriving bathed in sweat after dashing across the “mound,” all uphill of course, from the wrong venue. (It turns out there are lots of “Guilded Balloon” venues!  :-(((. After all that rushing about I decidedly needed to sit down and we did for an hour of excellent comedy:

“Girl on Girl” with Ayesha Hazarika. Not the lesbian exhibition the title suggestively promised, but a very funny dissection of the difficulties of being feminist despite being in what some say is a post feminist world. One advantage: “You ARE entitled to an 18% discount on your wages!” Who knew what I was missing out being a man. Some of the best laughs went right past me as I’m not up on the UK personalities invoked. However, her bit about madly searching out a person of color for a panel discussion sounded distressing like home in Cambridge, USA.

After the performance we went back stage as my friend Ann has been friends with Ayesha for quite some time. I was quickly introduced and was made privy to talk of people and events I only read about in the New Yorker. I did get my photo taken with Ayesha  and walked away feeling very cool. Funny, fun, and finally cool after my mad walk from across town. Definitely worth the rush.  

Today began.  At 10am with “Toast.” Great set, great choreography, great cooking (yes they cooked on stage), some excellent acting, and, unfortunately, a completely forgettable story. Just a string of events some tragic, some funny,  that had nothing to hold them together. Way too long.

“The Greatest Play in the World” wasn’t;  but it was a charming fairy tale. A bit too long and an ending, that if cut short, would have made the whole thing much stronger and showed that the play write had more respect for her audience. How would I like to be remembered in one single image or phrase? I’m not completely sure but I’m damn sure I would not want to pick from her list of suggestions. Just ask the question and let us decide as we are walking out after the show. What a wonderful topic to discuss over drinks.

“On the Exhale” A piece about gun violence in America. Good acting – one woman show. But do I need to hear more of this? Rather preaching to the choir in this gun adverse country. It allows the UK audience to feel superior – which they are – but does anyone feel more attuned to the issue after the play? No, this American was just sad and tired.

Four stand up comedy events Thursday and Friday stay tuned….

 Today was a museum day. After four plays on Monday it was time for the visual arts. There is a magnificent Emile Nolde exhibition in town.

Nolde exhibition.

No photos to share are they were prohibited which always is the best. However there were two other shows in a second mansion plus the permanent collection. The grounds contained a little Gormley embedded in the pavement like a “baby Kornfeld”

Gormley in the ground

and a giant earthwork.

Earthwork.

Inside was huge portraits by: Jenny Saville. Heroic in scale and truly powerful not just big.

Large portrait by Jenny Saville

Figures but more of a landscape by Jenny Saville. 18 feet across!

The collection also contained 4 Francis Bacons,

Detail of Francis Bacon “Pope”

a Lucian Freud

Detail of Lucian Freud. I love the paint!

and even a Bantus that I had never seen reproduced.

I was truly beat at 5:00 so I took an Uber back to my room. More theater tomorrow.

St Pancras Station

Took the fast train from Bordeaux to London changing trains in Paris. had to change train stations but very easy, a one shot, 30 minute subway ride to Gard de Nord. They even make it easier by selling you subway tickets in the club car on the train from Bordeaux.

Sent most of the ride typing up my thoughts about my time at Montaigne’s chateau. During the ride the girl next to me was reading Brothers Karamazov and the guy across from me was reading Descartes. Both of them in real books! What erudite traveling companions. The transfer to Gard de Nord went without a hitch but the boarding of the Eurostar was a mess. Exactly the same as last year. Long lines with little instruction as to where to go or when we would be let on. First a line to check our tickets. Then another to check our passports then another to pass our bags through security. It took well over ninety minutes to do all this and all for a 2-1/2 hour ride to London! Finally got through all the mess only to find myself backed up in another line as the train was not ready for passengers. It did leave on time and the rest of the ride was uneventful and I arrived in beautiful St. Pancras station. It was a short taxi ride to my room where I was greeted by Sheila and I climbed the three flights to my room. Weather in London was HOT and it turned out that I was the only one in Great Britian who was pleased. Everyone else was wilting in the heat which was in the high nineties but seemed much cooler because it was displayed in centigrade. It was only in the 30’s! I was a little pissed because I had been carrying clothes and a rain jacket for the last six weeks in preparation for cool rainy weather I expected for London.

I immediately booked dinner reservations at Ottolenghi’s restaurant for Monday night with Candy and Martin. And made arrangements to meet Candy at the Victoria and Albert Museum Monday afternoon. I left my room in Islington and had breakfast at Ottolenghi’s restaurant. Ordered the Shakshuka, a North African dish with eggs, peppers and tomatoes and served with labneh and grilled focaccia.

Shakshuka, a North African dish with eggs, peppers and tomatoes and served with labneh and grilled focaccia

I wiped the dish clean and just enjoyed a leisurely time. After I finished the newspapers I made my way to Trafalgar Square to while away the morning at the National Gallery. The usual mobs of tourists were swarming but it seemed even more crowded as there were barriers at intersections to channel and, I guess, protect pedestrians from terrorists. I was much more worried getting run down because I failed to look the right way. There was a cute sculpture up on the second plinth. Not great but definitely amusing.

The second plinth.

Went in to the National Gallery and enjoyed some of my old favorites trying to dodge the mobs.They had moved the Leonardo cartoon from its quiet darkened room to a wall next to the painting it was prepared for. Lost was the nice comfortable space to sit and appreciate it. It was still great and I was pleased to see it again. I didn’t spend near enough time as I was expected at the V and A at 2:00 to meet Cindy.

Spent some time looking around the V and A collection which is massive. Wall to wall, floor to ceiling objects. So much that I quickly tired of looking. I did go up to the 20th late century room which held a lot of design items very much like the Modern in NYC. Before I bailed out for good I found the Three Graces which, to me, looks plastic rather than realistic. I went out to the courtyard to get a coffee and people watch. A lot of moms with young children playing in the wading pool. Did get a look at two Japanese girls dressed in Victorian Steam Punk. You had to admire anyone in long sleeves in that weather!

Candy got hung up with work so didn’t arrive until almost closing. After a drink we made it to Ottolenghi’s right on time for our reservation. Dinner was just as good as the last time I was there a year ago and Candy was very impressed.

Tuesday

Gallery day. First stop was Sothby’s which had a show coinciding with their summer modern and contemporary auction. I saw it last year and this year was very good. I was particularly impressed with a Egon Schiele portrait and even viewed a tiny Giacometti drawing on newsprint for “only” $6500-9100. I stood there and contemplated what it would be like to have that hanging in my house. Fortunately I was able to resist the temptation and moved on to an excellent Wayne Thiebaud show that I had all to my lonesome except for the guard. Can’t say much for his subject matter but his color is ferocious and inventive. Loved a still life of two paint cans. His paint handling is masterful. Saw an excellent Picasso show at Gagosian and from there I headed to a Alice Neel show that was in the same gallery that displayed an excellent show of Yayoi Kusama- Sculptures last season. Here again I had the whole place to myself. I had to walk thru the super modern part of the city as I got off the subway and enjoyed the exuberance and risk taking of some of the architecture. I was particularly drawn to a building that was sharply angled with the windows going against the direction of the façade. After the exhibition I walked back to Islington and I enjoyed the transition back to quaintness.

Wednesday

Went to see the new wing of the Tate Modern which had opened on the day I left last year. The views from the observation 10^th floor were fantastic and in addition to the breathtaking views of the city across the Thames gave me a chance to indulge my voyeurism and peer into the windows of the apartment building close to the museum.

Few shades were drawn and it seemed like the inhabitants of these abodes expected to be looked at and so had various tableaus of modern furniture arranged in all glass rooms. Lots of fun made even more so when you read the signes requesting that we on the observation deck respect the privacy of the neighbors. Nobody rented these flats with the expectation of privacy.

I particularly enjoyed the Giacometti retrospective although it was arranged very poorly with many of the sculptures on shelves that didn’t allow a the visitor to walk around the works. They did have quite a few paintings which was a treat for me and I even sat through a video that included watching him paint and sculpt with soft clay. The rest of the collection was hung poorly and badly lit except for the Rothko room which was transcendent.

I finally decided to take a cigarette break and as I walked out I was approached by a guy who was surveying patrons. He was delighted with my comments and assured me that my criticisms of the lighting and salon style hanging would be read by the curators. He also loved my suggestion that cameras be prohibited and visitors be provided with access to digital images of the collection with the hope that this might encourage people to engage with the art rather than photograph it. Who know if my ideas will influence anyone but he wrote everything down and assured me they would be taken seriously.

My friend Ann had invited me to join her at a play she was reviewing and introduced me to may of the theater critics of the other London papers. I felt very glamorous and enjoyed my evening with her and basked in her reflected importance in the scene. The play was entertaining but not great. I was about office politics in an American magazine and included a shooting that, for me, came out of the blue right before the intermission. It did scare the hell out of me. I enjoyed talking over the play with Ann after and even more excited when I read her review the next day.

Montaigne and me!

Three buses (one missed!) two trains and two taxi rides were what it took to detour, on my way to London, to visit Chateau Montaigne. I walked to the bus station in San Sebastián to learn that 2:30 really meant 2:30 AM. I am still not used to military time. Found a very cheap ticket to Bordeaux but the Spanish did not like this off brand French company so “forgot” to put it on the departure monitor. More “tzouris” (“angst” for all you goyim out there) But unlike my thoughts when traveling missing my transport did not mean the end of the world and no one died!I Met a Frenchman in the tourist info office also booked on FLIXBUS and together we complained and got the schedule put up on the monitor reassuring each other that we had a way to Bairritz where I would change for Bordeaux. The bus arrived in Bairritz and deposited us on a street in the middle of nowhere. Not a bus station but really just a tree with a FLIXBUS sign and a 3 hour wait till my connection to Bordeaux. Fortunately there were two lovely Argentinian woman also equally perplexed as to what to do. We made our way down the street to a village center and eventually found a Brazilian restaurant for dinner.

Dinner companions from Argentina.

The food was good and the owner and his wife delighted to be serving fellow South Americans. Good food and conversation made the time pass quickly and soon we were making our way to the bus stop. The bus arrived on time and we got on only to see about 20 teenagers also arrive and fill up our almost empty bus. No longer empty the sounds of teenagers leaving home on an excursions filled the space to overflowing. Despite the noise we did arrive in Bordeaux and were deposited a block or so away from the train station. The three of us lugged our stuff to the station where I reluctantly said goodbye to Paola and Daniele and walked to my room.
My hostess knew i was late and promised to wait up. I could tell my ring had woken her up but she was very sweet but quickly showed me my room and went to bed. The next morning I told her that my research on the bus had told me that the weekend train schedule made it almost impossible to get to the Chateau. So I went with her to the market near by and after watching her do her shopping parted ways. She went home I found coffee and an excellent croissant. After two double espressos I made my way to the train station to make a stab at visiting misseure Montaigne. The guy at the ticket desk spoke excellent English and thought outside the box. He could get me to and back from a small town (Castillon) only 10K away from the chateau. From there he thought I could find a taxi the rest of the way. The train left in 45 minutes and I took it. I arrived thru wine country at Castillon to a very small station with no taxies. I walked down the hill and saw a restaurant with an open door. Inside I enquired about a taxi. The waitress and bartender didn’t speak English but led me to some guys having coffee. They were obvious having their traditional Saturday morning coffee klatch and tho they didn’t speak English I was able to communicate what I wanted to do and one called a friend of his who drove hack. I thanked them profusely and jumped in the cab for a short ride through a gorgeous landscape directly to the chateau. The office at the chateau provided me with a guide – a very cute art history student who gave me a private guided tour.
I had Montaigne all to myself with a charming young lady. We walked from the office to the chateau and she gave me a history of Montaigne and why he was important. Most of the info I knew but it sounded so nice from her that I didn’t mind the review. There was a “modern” chateau appended to the original walls and tower that Montaigne’s wrote his work. The new chateau was quite impressive and a residence off limits. It had been originally built by a finance minister under Napoleon. It was still in the same family updated with larger windows and TV cameras that swiveled to follow us as we moved about the grounds.
Elouise unlocked the tower with a very large and old key and we climbed a spiral staircase with very worn steps.
First stop, the chapel with a domed ceiling painted blue with stars. Montaigne’s bedroom was just above and this allowed him to say that he slept above the stars. There was an opening in the wall so that when Montaigne became to ill to walk downstairs he could still hear the church service below him. There were some frescos that were original to his time including one of St Michael slaying the dragon above the alter. Everything was quite faded but still relatively intact.

After a bit more history review Elouise led me upstairs to the bedroom that had a bed in one corner – not original. And a reproduction of a bust of Montaigne that I stood next to and had the requisite photo taken. There was a very old chest that she claimed belonged to Montaigne which when discovered in the attic in the 19th century contain his diary of his travels to Italy. The chest remained here the diary is in Bordeaux.

The crown jewel of course was the library above this room where Montaigne wrote/dictated most of his works.The books had long ago been dispersed but they had a drawing of the curved bookshelf that once housed his 1000 volume collection. The fireplace had been closed off by Montaigne who feared his most prized and valuable positions might burn. This made the room terribly uncomfortable in the winter. Off this circular room was another small room where a working fireplace existed and Montaigne could repair to when he needed to warm himself.
The rafters of the library are famous. Montaigne’s had incised into them lines from Latin literature. These were still quite legible but Elouise told me they had been slightly restored and charcoal dust replaced into the incised letters.
These quotes did not all face the same way because Montaigne’s liked to walk while he thought and dictated to his assistant. Sedentary thinking was not for him. And so some quotes faced one way others the opposite. That was something I didn’t know and was delighted when Elouise told me this story. This whole time I was really moved by my visit. To actually stand where Montaigne stood and see the same views he did out the windows of his bedroom and library was an honor and a thrill. Five years before I had spent an entire summer reading 3-4 hours a day in Harvard Yard plowing through all his writings and now here I was in the place where they were first put on paper! What a thrill and I was so lucky to see it at my own pace with a private guide. And a cute one to boot! Elouise looked at her watch and said we were way past the time allotted for the tour so she led me back to the front office and offered me a tasting of the wines produced on the estate. I had a bit of red mainly to continue my time with her. The wine was fine the guide was finer. It tipped Elouise and she went off to have her lunch and I slowly walked back to the chateau to have a last look around.

The original tower where Montaigne composed his works.

I shot a few photos I’d been too distracted to do while touring the tower and spaces around it. I walked around the walls and found myself on a gorgeous overlook of the countryside.
I reminded myself that this had been Montaigne’s everyday experience. Again I shot some photos and then reluctantly made my way back to the entry and called the taxi guy from the card he had given me. I met two fellow Montaigne enthusiasts from Belgium patiently waiting for the chain to be lifted and the chateau reopened at two.t

We chatted a bit and then they walked off and my taxi soon arrived. He took me back the way we had come and left me at the restaurant where he picked me up. I had a lunch of sliced ham, bread, and beer after which I made my 3:10 train back to Bordeaux. I was tired when I got back to my room but utterly delighted with my day.
I had a skype meeting with Boston that was a waste of time after which I walked to dinner and sat outside with a giant gothic tower overlooking my table. After a dinner of Duck Confit and Harcort Vert (finally vegetables!!!!) I walked to the river for a stroll and then slowly back to my room. What a great day!!!!
At this writing the girl next to me is reading The Brothers Karamazov and the guy across the table is reading Descartes! And me writing about Montaigne. What an erudite group.