“A lady hanging from the ceiling by her teeth”

Part One
 
Although the French Impressionist Edgar Degas is widely known as a painter of ballerinas he did, on one occasion, depict a circus acrobat. 
 
The story of this masterpiece, titled “Miss La La at the Cirque Fernando” is extraordinary.
 
 
 
When Degas encountered Miss LaLa (real name Anna Olga Albertina Brown) she was performing  at the legendary Circus Fernando located on the southern edge of the bohemian quarter, Montmartre. 
Her signature “iron-jaw act” consisted of a dangerous ascent of the aerialist to the roof of the circus by clinching a rope between her teeth. 
 
She also entertained her audience by hanging upside down from a “trapeze” and holding, by a rope in her mouth, a little boy, then a woman, and later a man.  
The climax of the performance included lifting with her mouth a “cannon barrel” weighing more than 300 kg which was “packed with gun powder and lit”. Miss LaLa never lost her grip. 
 
In simple words, in the winter of 1878 Miss Lala was more famous than the artist and a local journalist wrote “…to admit that you have not seen her is to lose your reputation as a Parisian”.
Degas lived just a few blocks away from the circus and visited most of Miss LaLa and her troupe’s performances and rehearsals during the season.

He completed the painting and offered it to the Fourth Impressionist Exhibition which took place in an apartment on the Avenue de L’Opera. 

The exhibition opened on 10th April 1879. 

To the great annoyance of his peers, Degas did not bring the painting until 27th April. 

No one knew the real reason for the postponement but if that was a marketing strategy by Degas, it backfired badly. 

The painting did not attract the expected attention. Two art critics wrote uncomplimentary reviews of the depiction. 

After two weeks of public exposure, a disappointed Degas took the picture back to his studio where it remained for the next 23 years, gathering dust.  
Eventually, in 1902 Degas gave the painting on consignment to his regular dealer Paul Durant-Ruel under the name “L’acrobate” and under this name it joined an exhibition in Berlin in 1903. 

In January 1905 Paul Durant-Ruel organised an extensive Impressionist exhibition in London presenting 315 paintings including Degas’ “Miss La La at the Cirque Fernando”. Only 13 paintings were sold. 
 
 
On the last day of the exhibition Cawthra Mulock, a 22-year old Canadian man, also known as “The Boy Millionaire of Toronto” visited the gallery and bought the acrobat’s painting. 
 
Mr. Mulock, who inherited a vast fortune from his aunt at the age of 15, was on a business trip to London at the time of the exhibition. 
 
To recapture, for a period of 26 years the Miss LaLa painting was publicly displayed on only  THREE occasions and in 1905 it sailed to Toronto, Canada. 
 
For the next 15 years it hung in  Mulock’s mansion on Jarvis Street in Toronto, admired only by visitors to the house.
In 1917 Degas died in Paris. The sensational Miss La La had long been forgotten. She had settled in Brussels, managing a cafe and an inn for stage artists. 

In 1918 the Toronto millionaire died in New York from Spanish flu. 
 
His widow sold Degas’ painting to an Art Gallery in Toronto. 
It was then bought by an art dealer for $6,500 and in 1923 it figured publicly for the FOURTH time in 44 years in an exhibition in the French Gallery in London.

 

That same year, the philanthropist Samuel Courtauld established his Fund for purchasing modern paintings for the National Gallery in London. 
 
In 1924 the Fund bought the painting. 
 
“A lady hanging from the ceiling by her teeth” had found her home. 
 
To be continued…

Crafting lemonade with Michelangelo

London is stealing the hearts of art lovers this summer. The city offers unlimited and worthy options to immerse oneself in the creative world of renowned painters. 
My choice fell upon two eminent artists from the Renaissance era – Michelangelo di Ludovico Buonarroti Simoni (1475-1564) and Michelangelo Merisi (1571- 1610), better known by the name of Caravaggio – the name of his home town in Lombardy in Northern Italy. 
The British Museum presented the drawings from the last three decades of Michelangelo’s life in Rome and the National Gallery showcased Caravaggio’s last painting “ The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula”. 
Both Old Masters loved painting figures (including figures of handsome young boys). Yet, they depicted them using completely different techniques. 
Michelangelo painted in a fresco manner. 
Literally, fresco means fresh in Italian. 
The artist pioneered a method of applying the paint straight on a still-wet wall plaster producing a result that was highly resilient to environmental factors. 
 
The exhibition is a real eye-opener of the hard work involved in this technique. 
 

 

Michelangelo set up a meticulous process of creating preparatory sketches. 
He figured out the composition of the artwork by drawing a succession of studies. 
In them he experimented with the figures, displaying remarkable precision in outlining the smallest details of human bodies. 
Figures and faces were drawn again and again until the intended emotional intensity was achieved. 
Then these studies were used to produce a full-size drawing called cartoon. 
Patiently and accurately little holes were punched on the outlines of the cartoon, the drawing was then held against the wall while chalk was applied to it several times. 
The chalk would go through the holes to the wall, creating guidance for the artist. 
 
The exhibition displayed the cartoon Epifania, the only complete Michelangelo cartoon that has  survived. 
It is 2.32 metres tall,1.65 metres wide and contains 26 sheets of paper. 
Eventually, Michelangelo abandoned the Epifania project but offered the cartoon to one of his pupils who completed the painting. 
The exhibition presented the cartoon and the painting, reunited for the first time since the 1550s. 
The other Michelangelo preferred oil painting on canvas. Caravaggio did not discriminate when it came to his canvases. He often painted on fabrics with already existing depicts.
The artist also did not execute a preparatory phase.
 That does not mean he entirely skipped the step of detailed studies or drawings. 
The truth is he developed a technique attuned to his artistic temperament and time management. 
Probably he came about this method in his early years as a poor artist in Rome. At that time he worked for a painter from Sicily who paid him for “each head” drawn, so time was of the essence. 
Caravaggio gradually mastered his ability to paint without preparatory drawings and employed this technique throughout his career.

 

His work began with painting the surface of the canvas with grey, brown or black colours. 
Then he scratched fine lines on the suffice by using the handle of the paint brush to outline the most important details of his compositions. 
Next, he painted directly with colour while the models posed in front of him.

It seems to me that both Michelangelos have put forward the idea that not originality but self-belief in “My Way” is a crucial ingredient in the mastery of making lemonade from life’s lemons. 

Caravaggio – the darkness and the light

In the first decades of 17th century Caravaggio meteorically rose to fame and achieved the status of one of the most commissioned painters in Rome. 
He revolutionised the art for ever, and inspired other European artists, called Caravaggisti, to adopt his innovative style of painting. 
 
Yet, in the middle of 17th century Caravaggio was forgotten. He remained forgotten for three centuries until 1951 when the art historian Roberto Longhi organised an exhibition of Caravaggio’s work in Milan. 
The Old Master was re-discovered.  
 
The National Gallery in London recently exhibited two masterpieces of Caravaggio. 
Both of them have unfamiliar religious titles “The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula” and “Salome receives the Head of John the Baptist”. 
Both were painted in the last year of the artist’s life. 
The latter is part of the permanent collection of the Gallery.  

The exhibition’s design parallels the dramatic and naturalistic manner of Caravaggio. 
The hall is small and shady. Diminished lights reveal the artist’s favourite earthy colours – black, brown and red. 
From the shadows two paintings mysteriously emerge and captivate the spectator. 
It feels easy to understand Caravaggio’s world. 
Standing in front of the “Salome receives the Head of John the Baptist” the viewers grasp immediately that a murder has been committed. 
Only three figures and one head are in the painting. Actually half-figures surrounded by threatening blackness. The murderer  has a “boxer’s broken nose”, redness on his chicks and his torso is strong and muscular. The brute holds the head by its hair and clutches his sword with the cruel pride of a job well done.
An old woman with a wrinkled, sorrowful face and praying hands peers over the head of the dead man. 
A beautiful girl in front of her grips the tray on which the murderer is placing the head. She desperately tries to avoid looking at it. There is some guilt and regret in her facial expression and some awkwardness in her half-turned body. 
The head on the tray conveys terror and cruelness coming from the meticulously painted white-yellowish lifeless face, wounded ear and flowing blood. 
A light from a single source, external to the painting highlights the faces and hands enhancing the dramatic effect. 
If art lovers like detective stories and thrillers like me  – they have it all: drama, mystery, threats, barbarism and sorrow, beauty and ugliness. Like real life. 
It does not matter whether the religious story and/or the religious characters are known to the audience. The human story unfolds and the observer participates in it. 
Martin Scorsese, the Hollywood director of the movie “Killers of the Flower Moon” felt “Immediately taken” by the “cinematic effect” of Caravaggio’s art and regularly visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York to study his work.
Many film-makers and photographers have studied and adopted the painter’s unique way of contrasting light and darkness. 
 
Caravaggio’s art has been resurrected like a mystical Phoenix. 
The painter not only moved the European art towards the new Baroque Age of the 17th and 18th centuries but in some strange way Caravaggio influenced two contemporary art genres that even did not exist two century ago.
 
 
An interesting fact in this connection  is that Caravaggio’s patron in Rome, 
Cardinal Francesco Maria del Monte, who helped catapult the artist to glory was a very educated and progressive Renaissance man. 
He enthusiastically supported new trends in art and science.
 
 
 
In his Palazzio he kept a telescope given to him by Galileo Galilei who as we well know was distrusted by the Church and the Inquisition but enjoyed the protection of the visionary Cardinal. 
 
 
 
When blackness threatens, be a Cavaraggisti, create your own light!

The last and lost Caravaggio

It was one of those coincidences that I call destiny. 
Destiny as in a pleasant surprise.
 
Netflix presented a new adaptation of the Patricia Hammersmith’s novel “The talented Mr Ripley” by the director Steven Zaillian in the spring of 2024. 
The version contains 8 black and white episodes with the brilliant Andrew Scott in the role of Tom Ripley. 
 
In one of the episodes the considerably less talented and much richer character Dickie Greenleaf introduces Tom Ripley to the Italian painter of the 17th century, Caravaggio (“The Seven Works of Mercy” in a church in Naples). 
Later in the series Tom appreciates the work of the artist in Galleria Borghese in Rome and in the final episode Caravaggio’s spirit mysteriously appears trying to escape the chasing Maltese Knights.  
 
The presence of one of the greatest masters of the Renaissance 
in a 2024 movie magically coincided with the exhibition of 
his last painting ” The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula”
 in the National Gallery in London. 
 
The history of the painting is as twisted and troubled as the life of its creator. 
In spring of 1610 the Genoese nobleman Marcantonio Doria, through his business agent in Naples,  commissioned Caravaggio to compose a religious canvas on the subject of Saint Ursula. 

At this time the artist lived in Naples as a fugitive, waiting for the Pope to pardon him for the murder he committed four years earlier in Rome. 

Caravaggio worked fast and delivered the commissioned art work to the agent on time. 

Now we know that the agent Lanfranco Massa left the picture of Saint Ursula in the sunshine for a day in order to send it to his employer “perfectly dry” then he shipped it to Genoa in May 1610. 

And then the painting vanished. 

Two months later Caravaggio was dead. 
Therefore “The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula” acquired the status of “the last painting” and also “the lost one” for nearly four centuries. 
Until 1980.  
The story began when an art historian Vincenzo Pacelli received a tip-off that the state archives of Naples kept papers of the Doria family (Remember, the Genoese Prince). 

Indeed, Pacelli discovered two letters written by the already mentioned agent Massa to his boss Doria dated 11th and 27th May 1610. 
The letters undoubtedly confirm that Caravaggio painted ““The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula”. 
Pacelli and Fernando Bologna, an art historian, with interest and expertise in the works of Caravaggio, wrote an article about the discovery in a quarterly journal Prospettiva  specialising in ancient and modern art history in 1980. 

The true identity of the author of “the lost painting” was revealed to the world. 

Where was the painting located during these long 370 years? 

Understandably, after exposure to the sun, the canvas arrived in not very good condition in Genoa in 1610. 
It stayed with the Doria family until some of the family members moved back to Naples in  and took the painting with them in 1832. The masterpiece belonged to the interior decoration of their Palazzo Doria D’Angri for years.

 At the beginning of 20th century the villa was acquired by a family called Romana-Avezzano. In 1963 the picture of Saint Ursula was displayed at an exhibition in Naples, somehow “undercover”, as it was credited to another artist.

In 1973 the painting was bought by the Banca Commercial Italiana as the work of one of the Caravaggio’s followers, Maria Preto (1613- 1699) from Calabria. 

In 1999 Banca Commercial Italiana merged with Banca Intesa Sanpaolo and the masterpiece of Caravaggio found its new owners. 
They organised public access to the painting by displaying it  in the Galleria d’Italia on Via Toledo in Rome.  
 
 
 
 
If you missed the exhibition in London this summer, fear not, you have an excuse to jump on a plane to Rome to meet Caravaggio. 
 
If not, I will post a series of articles about the life and work of this exceptionally talented and restless man who propelled art to the new era of Baroque. 
 
 
At the end I will ask like Dickie asking Tom “Do you like Caravaggio?”.

Finding freedom when trapped

Liberating oneself from constraints is a tough task. 
Nelson Mandela, who had extensive knowledge on matters of liberty and imprisonment famously said  that freedom “is not merely to cast off one’s chains.” There is much more to it. 
 
Unexpectedly, the exhibition “Michelangelo: Last Decades” organised by the British Museum, London has added some deeper layers to the paradox of being free when trapped.

The genius of the Renaissance,  Michelangelo, held strong professional opinions. 
He believed that sculpture was a supreme art and identified himself as a sculptor. Michelangelo ranked painting inferior and disliked it. 
The artist even wrote a poem about the misery of painting: “My painting is dead…I am not in the right place – I am not a painter.” 

Talented and successful people like Michelangelo routinely make enemies. 
His well-known distaste of painting inspired the influential architect, and Michelangelo’s rival, Donato Bramante to set a nasty trap for him. 
Bramante convinced Pope Julius II to commission the artist to paint the vault of the Sistine Chapel – a Herculean project, designed to ensure Michelangelo’s failure. 

The ceiling of the chapel consisted of a thousand square metres and the painter had to compose around 300 figures. 
The sculptor had little knowledge and skills of fresco technique, nevertheless  his work would be judged against the brilliance of Rafael who was working on another project in The Vatican at the same time. 

Without doubt, Michelangelo was “hacked”. He could not refuse the Pope’s commission. Others would inevitably compare his work to the mastery of Rafael. 

What do you do in a situation like that?
 
The easiest way is to try to avoid it. 
Michelangelo sincerely declared that Rafael was a much better painter than him and suggested his appointment for the task.
This did not work. 
Full of resentment, Michelangelo firmly negotiated the parameters of his task. 
The sculptor declined to employ the fresco method popular at that time and invented his own unique technique. 
He also dismissed the fresco experts brought especially from Florence to advise him and used just four assistants for the less important parts of the paintings. 
Michelangelo locked the door of the Chapel and allowed two workers to be there with him. 
The artist also disapproved of the scaffolding erected by Bramante and built “an ingenious system of mobile scaffolding”. Finally, he announced that he was going to paint not only the ceiling of the vault but also the walls. 
The work commenced on 15th May 1508 and the Chapel was opened to the public four years later on 31st October 1512. 
The project was a major “suck”.  
Michelangelo wanted to abandon it many times. 
His relationship with the Pope was fraught with difficulty and caused many crises and arguments. 
Mould appeared on the walls, spread to the paintings and damaged them.
 Michelangelo had to paint standing on the scaffolding, reaching up to the ceiling and craning his neck for more than 12 hours a day. 
It probably was unbelievably claustrophobic in this small place between the ceiling and the scaffolding with paint running down on him endlessly. 
The physical demands and burdens of the work led to serious health problems for years to come. 
Still, Michelangelo endured and emerged victorious from the trap.  
In a letter he wrote “ I worked harder than anyone who ever lived. I am not well and worn out with this stupendous labour, and yet, I am patient in order to achieve the desired end”. 
 
For centuries, the world has cherished the “desired end” as truly divine.  
 
 

The “freedom” 

could be 

the choice to stay in the game, 

push through 

and give your best in the face of despair.

 

Blow water 吹水

 
 
 
I had not heard the term “blow water” until last Saturday. I definitely could drink water, boil or freeze it, swim in it, admire the beauty of it but why on earth would I need to blow it?

At first hearing the phrase sounds like a “wellness” term of 21st century – the urge to avoid dehydration by drinking at least 2 litres of water daily goes so excessively wrong that the water-saturated body must blow the surplus. Really!?
Then, I thought about whales. Everyone has seen the iconic pictures of whales blowing geysers of water in the ocean. Scientists believe that whales were land mammals which have evolutionary adapted to the life in the ocean in search of food. Obviously they were very successful in their advancement – they can grow up to 15 meters and weigh around 35 tones. 
Whales have one or two blowholes on the back of their head. These blowholes are their nostrils. The animals come to the ocean surface and without lifting their head they contract their muscles, open their blowhole(s) and inhale air. 
 
Whales can keep the air in their lungs between 7 and 30 min (sperm whales even up to 2 hours), use 90% of the inhaled oxygen (compare to 15% of humans) and exhale it again through the blowhole. The exhaled air is warm from its body heat and it is released into the much colder temperature of the oceanic environment. So it condenses immediately and voila, the whale “blows water” which can reach 9 meters in the air.
 
It appears then that “blow water” is linked with something existential such as breathing and staying alive.
 
 
The next part of the story is that not only air but also mucus and oils and other bodily fluids emerge from the whale’s nostril and it stinks! Imagine having a cold and blowing your nose. Oph! 
 
Yet it is a process of cleaning, healing, releasing and eventually relaxing.
The most fascinating fact which hugely enriches the experience of the whale watchers is that different species of whales have specifically designed blowholes. 
As a result, the shape of the “blow water” enables specialists to recognise the species. 
For example, the sperm whales (toothed whales) blow water in a shape of geyser. The humpback, blue and grey whales (baleen whales) have two blowholes on their head and create an astonishing heart-shaped cloud.
So, watch how human “species” blow water – you could probably find your tribe.  
 
 
Finally, I walked the path most traveled – I looked at the translation of the Cantonese  (Hong Kong) term “blow water”. 
The English translation is to chat, to talk casually, chit-chatting. “Blow water” is this informal chat when you do not notice that time flies, the chat about nothing and about everything, the chat that connects qualities visible by hearts and eyes. 
It is the song of the humpback, the song of the sea. 

“The image that resists all explanation” – Part 1

Only 2 hours journey by Eurostar and Adrian and I are able to pay a visit to the city of Brussles and its Musee Margitte Museum. 

The legacy of the famous surrealist Rene Margitte is explicitly presented in the life of the Belgian capital. A few building around the Grand Palace have his well-known objects painted on their walls. Many shops sell gifts and art items with Margitte’s signature images. The museum of his works is very well attended by an international crowd.
 
 
It opened on 2nd June 2009. Its creation was result of the enthusiasm, efforts and  professionalism of the Belgian state and Belgian economical, art and civil community. 
This devotion to treasure the national art heritage and made it available for the public its not specifically Belgian or European. 
The same cultural ambitions I have experienced in Chicago. The Modern Wing of the Art Institute designed by Renzo Piano and also opened in 2009 contains at least 11 Margate’s canvases and drawings including the famous “Time transfixed”1938.
 
 
However, the Museum in Brussels has the biggest world-leading collection of works by Margitte . It is situated in the renovated Hotel Altenloh on The Place Royale. 
The Museum has an unusual structure. The exhibition is spread on three floors and the tour starts from the top floor. 
 


The paintings are accompanied by lifeline explanations and photographs.The visitors can read  Margate’s own words in French and see many drawings, posters, book illustrations, photographs and even movies. 
It is a very well thought-out and organised museum. The gift shop sells pleasant items. Despite the overwhelming visiting crowd the museum still excludes  a sense of space. 
The only big disadvantage is that there is no cafe on the premises. I hope this issue will be soon attended to. 
 
 
That leaves us with only one thing – to enjoy the unexplainable world of Rene Margitte. 
I often hear that everything in art has already been created. 
This argument does have a point yet I do not think it applies to really talented artists. 
Their artistic style is unmistakably unique and visionary, art to be followed. 
 
 
Let’s look at some of the painting of Rene Margitte and their contemporary resonance:
 
 
In 1927 Margate painted “The female Tief” and the “Man from the Sea” – two canvases from his “black period” when he constructed his “ enigmatic visual world”. 
 
Nearly 100 years later see what appears:
 
 
 
The canvas “The Secret Player” was created in 1927. 
 
Again, 96 years later,  in 2020 we had the global Covid pandemic.
 
Could you recognise the crises – a woman wearing a mask, a frightening flying black turtle in the sky, skittles turning into trees, and a losing team?
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Great expectations”1940. 
 
The grounded, stable, even reassuringly round trees could present ambitions rooted in “community and creativity, with goals like feeling connected whole and healthy”.
 
And the highly ambitious, skinny and unstable tree with a few leaves but reaching for the sky.
To be continued….

Bravissimo Maestro Donizetti!

I struggled this week to decide about attending the opera, The Elixir of Love (L’elisir d’Amore), by the Italian composer Gaetano Donizetti. 
In order to come to a decision I weighed up the pros and cons. 
Cons were a few. 
The local theatre. The Regent Centre, was broadcasting the Royal Opera House production in the middle of the working week. 
The show starts at 19.15 and lasts around 3 hours with an interval. 
Additionally, I had to travel back and forth to my house numerous times.
 
 
Pros included the light-hearted libretto with a happy ending, the world-class production and cast. 
Above everything else was the splendid music of the genius Donizetti who wrote the music for the opera in just 6 weeks.
 
So, I moved in favour of the live broadcasting and thank God, I did. 
It completely lifted me, physically and psychologically for the rest of the week. My tiredness disappeared, I felt inspired. I happily sang phrases of the well-known aria “ Una Furtiva Lagrima” at home and work.
 
The synopsis of the opera is simple. The plot develops around the deep love of a poor, naive village boy Nemorino for a rich and attractive girl Adina. 
To complicate the situation a rival, the military sergeant Belcore appears on the scene. 
Nemorino feels he needs a miracle to win over Adina.
 
Fortunately for him, a con artist called Dr. Dulcamara arrives in the village. 
 
In a moment of pure brilliance Dr Dulcamara produces the desperately needed love elixir (a half bottle of a cheap Bordeaux wine). 
 
At the end, Adina realises that she has always been in love with Nemorino who is now conveniently rich and very popular among the village girls following the death of his uncle. 
 
The love rival Belcore marches away to conquer other women’s hearts. 
Dr Dulcamara’s business flourishes after the success of the love juice. 
 
 
 
 
The culmination of the opera, in my humble opinion, is the performance of the extraordinary aria “Una Furtiva Lagrima”(“A secret tear”) in the second scene.
 
Everyone knows this aria. Two tenors – “The Matchless Singer” Enrico Caruso and Luciano Pavarotti made it famous worldwide. 
 
The aria, its words and transcendent music speak to the human soul. It creates tranquility – that exquisite moment when our hearts know that the person we love loves in return. The flash of discovery that we are loved. A heartbeat of relief, ecstasy and faith.
 
Music says it all. Magic!
 
 
The cast is outstanding. The star of the show is the American soprano Nadine Sierra as Adina. She has the complete package – brilliant voice, beautiful face and figure (especially legs) and is an excellent actress. 
The decor compliments the story but disappointment washes over me when I discover that the same decor was used for the production of the opera some years ago. We live in an era of recycling and economic crises.
 
 
 
 
The next morning my husband Adrian brings me my usual cup of black coffee in bed. 
The elixir of love works for us without fail. 
No secret tear though – big men don’t cry. 
 

Guten Abend, Herr Wagner!

The new opera season in Great Britain commenced with a Big Bang – the Royal Opera House  presented the first chapter of the Wagner’s epic cycle “Der Ring des Nibelungen” – Das Rheingold.

Before last Sunday I had never seen a Wagner opera. The “What’s on” rubric on the Royal Opera House’s website informed me last week that The Rheingold’s production would be broadcast in 1,341 local cinemas in 20 countries around the world. The local theatre ticket costed £18. You can check – the entrance fee for the Royal Opera House is between £193 and £325. 
 
 
 
I can assure you my attendance was only 10% linked to the incredible ticket price and the short duration of the Wagner opera.
The other 90% I allocate evenly to the ravishing music of Wagner, the dramatic story and the creative troupe. 

I had already admired the brilliant conducting of the musical director Antonio Pappano in Puccini’s Turandot last season and was looking forward to seeing the work of the controversial Australian- born but Berlin-based director Barrie Kosky. 

 
 The performance began with a shock – an old woman with long white-grey hair and beautiful delicate face totters across the monochrome scene. She is completely naked. Naked and vulnerable – she is the Mother Earth Erda (splendid acting by the 82-year old Rose Knox-Peebles).
 
Her presence on the stage is a marvellous innovation of Barry Komsky which is a clear parallel to the current state of the planet and holds the four scenes of the opera together.
 
If Richard Wagner, the 19th century German composer with emblematic beret, was living nowadays I am pretty sure he would be a big hit at the box offices of Netflix or Amazon Prime.  
The spectators know the synopsis of The Rheingold, they know how the story ends. And yet, they are totally absorbed by the imaginative reality of Wagner and his powerful music. 
It feels like we follow a chilling thriller on Netflix or watch a Grand Slam tennis match. 
Emotions run high in a short space of time, intense ups and downs with a power struggle, betrayal, greed, love, curse, exploitation, murder and humiliation.
 
 
Moreover, the singing actors wear modern 21st century clothing.
The Rheingold maidens appear in  black lace slip dresses, the dwarf Alberich is in a grey suit or jogging outfit, the gods parade in polo britches and high boots and the giants are tattooed and wear sunglasses. 
By the way, the entrance of the giants in scene 2 is outstanding – a real scene from The Godfather, simple and brutal.
 
 
 
 
Antonio Pappano performs Das Rheingold in his last season as a musical director of the Royal Opera House but he will come back as a conductor for the next three chapters of the cycle. 
The second instalment of the Ring and an opera in its own right is Die Walkure. Its duration is five hours with two intervals.
 
 
The prominent Italian composer Gioacchino Rossini visited the performance of Wagner’s opera Lohengrin which lasts 4 hours and 35 minutes. 
Afterwards he famously concluded “ One cannot judge Wagner’s opera Lohengrin after a first hearing, and I certainly don’t intend to hear it a second time”. 
Scusa Maestro Rossini!

 

The delightful performance of Das Rheingold and the chance to hear the world’s most popular Wagner’s motive “The Ride of the Valkyries” in Act 3 of Die Walkure motivate me to raise my game.

Bis zum nächsten Jahr, Herr Wagner!

Creative eccentricity

This story happens on two continents, actually on a continent and an island of another continent. 
The main characters are a gifted artist with turned up and waxed moustache, a ballet buddy and an art lover (not so famous as Adrian).
At the beginning was an invitation. It came from my ballet buddy Catherine who has a very simpatico ability to organise wonderful cultural trips. 

The London adventure this time aimed for the immersive experience exhibition of the most popular surrealist in the world – Salvador Dali (the gifted artist).
 
The London visit took place on Monday and believe or not,  I (the obscure art lover) already had tickets for the ongoing exhibition of the Spanish painter in The Art Institute of Chicago on Thursday the same week.
 
 Splendid coincidence!
 
 
The showcase in London is digital. In a big hall of a former boiler building the art of Dali comes to life. His bizarre figures, unrecognisable forms, exotic animals and peculiar environments move around the walls, spread on the floor, emerge from the sky (ceiling), disappear and come back. 
 
The digital projections make the audience a part of this fantastical world which whispers its secrets and desires. Background electronic music adds additional flavour to the whole experience.
 
An epiphany moment (at least for me) reveals Dali’s passion for science and technology. He not only befriended some of the most distinguished scientists of 20th century as Freud and Einstein but he enthusiastically celebrated fundamental scientific achievements as discovery of the DNA and cybernetic. Dali was one of the first artists to work with computers.

 

The little shop at the exhibition end offers some souvenirs and Catherine buys a lovely print for her artist brother.
Chicago’s Dali exhibition is a traditional one. 
The queue in front of the room 289 (exhibition room)  is so long that it nearly reaches the nearby cafe. Inside the room a new very-slowly-moving queue is formed by visitors who want to read the curator’s notes about Dali’s life and artistic endeavours. 
Still, the moment you move away from the line even rescuing not to see the first few paintings, the mysterious land of surreal dreams and thoughts drags you as a magnet. 
The exploration of Dali’s “hand-painted dream photographs” demands intellectual efforts and at the same it is so alluring. 
 
 
Honestly, if someone ask me to choose between the two exhibitions I would not know what to say. What is evident to me is that the dreamy planet of the emblematic artist exists happily in any forms of presentation. 

The lighthearted London showcase exhibits a confident awareness that the visitors would gain unexpected insights into this familiar or not so familiar art.

Chicago exhibition raises the bar much higher, the audience know that the artist is brilliant and they are there to see, enjoy and memorise his brilliance with their own eyes. 
 
 
Excellent result for the genius of the self-promotion!