Sunday 12th March
Got back from Salzburg late last night. Andy and I had hoped to stay on for the Sunday after the Gymnich meeting and try a bit of snow-shoeing in the Tennenberg mountains (near Werfen and its castle, where they shot "Where Eagles Dare"), but the forecast was pretty atrocious, so we cut our losses and got out Saturday night.
Before that, however, found a bit of time to look around Salzburg, which is spectacular. Took what I hope is a great picture from the Mirabell Garten, near the conference centre, across the Altstadt with its Baroque towers to the Hohensalzburg Schloss. I remember last being there on a camping van trip in 1977 with Carol and an eight month old Victoria! Where will we be in another 29 years' time? Remind myself of the need to prioritize and avoid dispersing my energies by pursuing 1001 different projects simultaneously. However, contrary to my own advice, I find myself with Andy in a bookshop (the oldest in Austria apparently), snapping up Reclam editions of such light classics as Rilke's Duino Elegies, the sermons of Meister Eckhart and, in Andy's case, "Also Sprach Zarathustra"! Any honest academic would probably expect to spend about a lifetime on each! Actually, it was poor old Richard Applebee who first put me on to Rilke. He'd been introduced to him by his tutor at Oxford and fancied himself as a bit of a guru on the strength, presumably, of having written some undergraduate essay on the subject. However, Rilke is generally recognized a one of the giants of 20th century literature, so he deserves at least a wee look. As far as I can gather, his major area of interest is man's uncomfortable intermediary position between the material and the immaterial, between the visible and the invisible. Strange how this idea of reconciling two different dimensions of reality is very much on the same wavelength as Maurice Nicoll (author of "LivingTime"), with his different dimensions of time. The thing about Rilke is that he seems to have been a bit of a cad in real life. Abandoning his wife and child, he spent his life snobbishly sucking up to and cadging off the aristocracy. Even allowing for the fact that nobody is perfect, this sort of information on a writer is always disappointing. One somehow expects more of people of great insight.
Meanwhile, back home, the good news is that JT wants us to do a gig! So turns out he's a believer after all! He wants us for April 1st (no kidding), but Barry can't make it. Still, we'll try and find a replacement, as it's too good a chance to turn down.
This afternoon, went to see the Théo Van Rysselberghe exhibition at the Beaux-Arts. Fairly sizable collection of his work. He gives a powerful overall impression of "métier", as he finds his way to colour and his own interpretation of "neo-impresionism". The sheer quantity of his production is amazing - almost like a sort of workaholism, where he feels most alive in front of his easel. I remember an old fifties black-and-white documentary on Matisse, where the Master is asked what it takes to be a great painter. He answers: "Il faut travailler. Il faut travailler beaucoup!" So there you are!
Also took in the Wiener Werkstätte. Active in the 20's, it was a movement which grew out of the Arts & Crafts movement, Charles Rennie MacIntosh, Art Nouveau/Jugendstil etc., which aimed at producing craft products in a modern idiom. One of their central notions was the need to bridge what they saw as the artificial separation between art and life. Their basic problem was money, of course, as, despite their democratic ambitions, the only people who could afford the stuff were rich folks! The Brussels link is with the Palais Soclet on the Avenue de Tervuren, which is recognised as one of the "chefs d'oeuvres" of the movement. It's a building we're very familiar with, as, when I first started work in Brussels, we lived in a fancy appartment only a few doors down. Can't say I've ever really liked it. Although obviously distinctive, there's something oddly cold about it, with more than a hint of megalomania, a feeling borne out by the interior views shown in the exhibition.
Got back from Salzburg late last night. Andy and I had hoped to stay on for the Sunday after the Gymnich meeting and try a bit of snow-shoeing in the Tennenberg mountains (near Werfen and its castle, where they shot "Where Eagles Dare"), but the forecast was pretty atrocious, so we cut our losses and got out Saturday night.
Before that, however, found a bit of time to look around Salzburg, which is spectacular. Took what I hope is a great picture from the Mirabell Garten, near the conference centre, across the Altstadt with its Baroque towers to the Hohensalzburg Schloss. I remember last being there on a camping van trip in 1977 with Carol and an eight month old Victoria! Where will we be in another 29 years' time? Remind myself of the need to prioritize and avoid dispersing my energies by pursuing 1001 different projects simultaneously. However, contrary to my own advice, I find myself with Andy in a bookshop (the oldest in Austria apparently), snapping up Reclam editions of such light classics as Rilke's Duino Elegies, the sermons of Meister Eckhart and, in Andy's case, "Also Sprach Zarathustra"! Any honest academic would probably expect to spend about a lifetime on each! Actually, it was poor old Richard Applebee who first put me on to Rilke. He'd been introduced to him by his tutor at Oxford and fancied himself as a bit of a guru on the strength, presumably, of having written some undergraduate essay on the subject. However, Rilke is generally recognized a one of the giants of 20th century literature, so he deserves at least a wee look. As far as I can gather, his major area of interest is man's uncomfortable intermediary position between the material and the immaterial, between the visible and the invisible. Strange how this idea of reconciling two different dimensions of reality is very much on the same wavelength as Maurice Nicoll (author of "LivingTime"), with his different dimensions of time. The thing about Rilke is that he seems to have been a bit of a cad in real life. Abandoning his wife and child, he spent his life snobbishly sucking up to and cadging off the aristocracy. Even allowing for the fact that nobody is perfect, this sort of information on a writer is always disappointing. One somehow expects more of people of great insight.
Meanwhile, back home, the good news is that JT wants us to do a gig! So turns out he's a believer after all! He wants us for April 1st (no kidding), but Barry can't make it. Still, we'll try and find a replacement, as it's too good a chance to turn down.
This afternoon, went to see the Théo Van Rysselberghe exhibition at the Beaux-Arts. Fairly sizable collection of his work. He gives a powerful overall impression of "métier", as he finds his way to colour and his own interpretation of "neo-impresionism". The sheer quantity of his production is amazing - almost like a sort of workaholism, where he feels most alive in front of his easel. I remember an old fifties black-and-white documentary on Matisse, where the Master is asked what it takes to be a great painter. He answers: "Il faut travailler. Il faut travailler beaucoup!" So there you are!
Also took in the Wiener Werkstätte. Active in the 20's, it was a movement which grew out of the Arts & Crafts movement, Charles Rennie MacIntosh, Art Nouveau/Jugendstil etc., which aimed at producing craft products in a modern idiom. One of their central notions was the need to bridge what they saw as the artificial separation between art and life. Their basic problem was money, of course, as, despite their democratic ambitions, the only people who could afford the stuff were rich folks! The Brussels link is with the Palais Soclet on the Avenue de Tervuren, which is recognised as one of the "chefs d'oeuvres" of the movement. It's a building we're very familiar with, as, when I first started work in Brussels, we lived in a fancy appartment only a few doors down. Can't say I've ever really liked it. Although obviously distinctive, there's something oddly cold about it, with more than a hint of megalomania, a feeling borne out by the interior views shown in the exhibition.
posted by asbo at 10:01 AM
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