Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kenneth Branagh, Egyptian Art, and the joys of a day at the museum The nice part about working for a museum is that you can hare off to other museums during your work day and call it part of your job. Three of us took off today at twelve-thirty and went to the National Gallery to see the Highlights of the Winterthur exhibit and the Egypt exhibit as well. They were both interesting, although I agree with the criticism that the Egyptian exhibit, like many blockbusters, seems to be more an excuse to haul in cool stuff into one room, with little regard to telling a coherent story. The theme was supposed to be "How Egyptians Regarded Death" or something of the sort, but the exhibit sort of meandered. It was tons of fun, though, and some of the stuff was truly spectacular, especially a few of the colossal heads, and the mockup of a tomb with the twelve hours of the night painted on the walls. The soul's journey through the underworld and out the other side, done in almost stick-figure drawings. Very moving despite the lack of detail. As a registrar, it's also boggling to me how they arrange to ship and mount some of the truly massive pieces. Money and lots of help, that's the secret to everything. I lingered for a while and visited a few of my favorite pieces - Ginevra Da' Benci, a Botticelli portrait of a young man that I once wrote a paper on, the terracotta bust of Leonardo Il Magnifico, a Kalf still life, a teeny painting of John the Baptist, young and muscled, removing his clothes in the desert and putting on his hairy lion skin, and the Giotto Madonna and Child. Made me happy, and even the eight block walk I had to do to get to my slug line wasn't a bother to me as I had plenty to think about. Got home and cooked (rigatoni with a ragu) and watched Love's Labour's Lost with Zee. She liked most of it, although we fastforwarded through the clowning that irritates me. If they hadn't gotten somebody so over-the-top to play the Spanish whoosisface, it would have worked better, I think - zany screwball 30's comedy notwithstanding, he's just too painful to watch for a prolonged time. But damn, if Kenneth Branagh ever mysteriously vanishes, you'd better look for him in my closet. He'll be manacled to my vaccumn (near a bookshelf - I'm not a barbarian!). Then, wonder of wonders, we actually made it to our first scheduled appointment at the gym. Consequently, I'm feeling a trifle lightheaded, and my arms resemble the pasta I boiled earlier, but I'm glad we went. Now we have to work on making it a regular thing. Off to bed, I think...it's been a day of fullness. 9:56 p.m. - 2002-08-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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