Glass has always fascinated me – they call Antoine Leperlier, an unclassifiable artist, a glass sculptor.I was transfixed by the unusual works of art by Leperlier in Musée nationale de ceramique.
He’s using old text and adages like “et in Arcadia ego” to emphasize his take on time and human history. interrupted movements in glass like pictures taken on high speed film. frozen poetry.
“chaos” has a special place in Leperlier’s work; “continual struggle between permanence and flux, cosmos and chaos, being and nothingness”…
the only other artist that i know in this caliber would be the great Dale Chihuly.
“Never explain – your friends do not need it and your enemies will not believe you anyway.”
i thought for a long time that this quote is from Abraham Lincoln but i just found out that Elbert Hubbard is the author; the version i knew was a bit more modern than the above mentioned original:
“Never explain – you’ll bore your friends and your enemies will not believe you anyway.”
Hondarribia is a jewel of a region in the spanish basque country; I stayed in Parador to be close to Charles Quint, one of my favorite Habsburgs.
i was astonished by the tenacity of these people in regards to their language, Euskara. i am weary/wary of nationalistic sentiments – the idea that you can do better acting independently rather than collectively and that the people who spoke the same language or shared a common ethnicity should fight to build their own nation?states scares the hell out of me. Nazis and Fascists were ultra-nationalists – ETA hardly has anything to do with these two (even though it has plenty to do with other bloody mess) but i am frightened by talks of racial purity and xenophobia. i don’t want to see people, each having their own ethnic flag planted in their backyards; santa monica, california would be a very colorful city…
on the lighter side of the spectrum, spain is the country of tapas and tintos,
and sometimes carajios (an espresso with an added shot of alcohol) while watching your favorite matador at the neighborhood bar.
Living in Los Angeles, i was kind of blas
i have great images from this region but they need to be sorted out; these are my first impressions of this beautiful Basque region, south of france and north of spain.
to many, happiness is as simple as this:
coming from warm and dry california (with omnipresent washer/dryers), i was amused to see that everywhere i went in hondarribia, the laundry was hung out to dry even in the rain.
so i woke up this morning at 5 and headed towards trocadero. the idea of seeing the Eiffel Tower by itself was enough of a reason – the last time i was up this early for a photo shoot was in prague, last may.
the pigeons and me weren’t completely alone… a couple of Parisian lovers were watching the sun rise.
i started walking towards saint germain; Paris’ saturday morning streets were empty but for trash collectors, some late party goers walking back home and the omnipresent american joggers; even my least favorite bridge, pont Alexandre III, looked majestic in the golden morning hue.
i ended my promenade with a café crême at Deux Magots.
french are in love with their bread; the bakeries in france smell different from anywhere else in the world – i always thought that the butter is the reason but i am learning that it is actually the flour – heaven must smell like french “p
there was a big “messe/mass ” in Notre Dame cathedral last sunday; i was lucky to see it – beautiful music and a great show for the faithful and the tourists…
this medieval giant of a building remains spellbinding after 800 years; the other churches seem like little dwarves compared to it.
they say pigeons are winged rats but when i saw them eating from the hands of the beautiful Kristina, they looked great; the sparrows weren’t fighting with them – it was enough food for everybird.
this was an interesting museum because you could see where the artist lived – his work has never seemed very interesting to me but i thought a lot about my dear professor Ungvari when i was looking at Moreau’s study: there were many beautiful books and various collections of small drawings; the whole room was bathing in a quiet amber light.