Travels With My Shoes

I did see some art in Madrid. The Thyssen Bornemisza had a Matisse 1917- 41. It included at least one painting from the BMA’s Cone Collection. The show made me think of interesting and different ways to use windows in painting.

On my way back to Conde Casal to get the bus I went into the Caixa Forum, Madrid an exciting new building designed for art exhibits. I had seen that the art collection of the Aga Khan was up but not that interested BUT once again was glad I dropped in because I unexpectedly found ‘ ‘the best piece of art ‘ in Madrid during the short time I was there. It was a 13-14th century silk gold brocade Mongol robe. One expects garments that old to be short and frayed. This Mongol must have been a giant; the fabric and needlework were exquisite. It was mind- boggling. I kept running back to look and make sure the dates I had written down were correct, and look again, mentally wowing.

I had some interesting episodes on the plaza at night. One evening, when the group and I were sitting in the plaza, a young man working in the next-door bar started to speak to us in English. He was a Chilean called Alberto and he spoke excellent English. Over the week I would go to the ‘Bar El Conrado’ to get my cerveza and aceitunas (beer and olives) to fuel my evening plaza scribbling. One evening I signaled to the dour senora who owned the place for more, and she sent out someone with my order, who squeaked something unintelligible to me. I thought he must be her retarded son. Alberto explained that he was a deaf mute-called Roberto, a semi orphan in his mid twenties.

Alberto felt that Roberto was exploited by the senora at the bar and in other work they made him do in the countryside. Roberto reminded me a bit of some of the more offbeat characters in the paintings of Velasquez. Alberto also told me that Roberto liked my drawings, so, since business was slow, I said I’d do a drawing of him. He understood my gestures and sat down, crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. It took under 10 minutes but the Senora was breathing down his neck and giving me the evil frowning eye.

I kept saying ” Uno momento mas, gracias.” -to no avail. She was REALLY WICKED. I tore the sketch out of my book and gave it to him. It didn’t look much like him, but he was very pleased and made interesting chirping sounds expressing his excitement. Alberto swore if he could open a bar in Madrid, he would ‘liberate’ Roberto and take him with him.

Thursday morning I waited at Carla´s Casa de Marquesa, hoping the taxi sent would hook up with the party of 4 coming to do the course. They arrived around 10.30, no worse for wear and THE WEEK WAS ON!

Throughout the week everyone worked in my studio, I had thought the one experienced painter Dorian Dean would be off on her own…but she worked alongside the 3 more novice folk. I would pick them up every morning at Casa Marquesa after they finished breakfast, herd them across the plaza and begin the demonstration of the day around 10.00-10.30.

We worked with oil pastel, and techniques like twig and ink etc., and basic intro to painting. The work they produced exceeded their own, and my expectations.

Then at 2 pm we’d head cross the plaza to eat a traditional Spanish lunch (tres platos vino incluso for 8.50 euro each) at Fermin´s Taberna del Arriera – Fermin became a favorite of all.

After SIESTA…

Wednesday we went by local bus to Aranjuez and had lunch at place Oscar had found last year, so close to the buses you think it must be a dive, BUT actually a lovely and cool comidor, pale pink napkins and tablecloths -just the ticket after the heat of walking the town!

The final evening Carla and Jan Kees of Casa Marquesa, plus Anemi Moolhuisen, a Dutch friend and painter, came to the house to see all the work our group had produced. The group had really hit it off with Carla and Jan, and loved the cool courtyard and rooms at Casa Marquesa. This friendliness and mutual interest lead to an invitation to stay for a paella dinner. Quite an unusual event. With all the camaraderie Carla and Jan decided, with their daughter Stella (age13), to visit Baltimore next spring to kick off a tour of northeast region!

Another Chinchonian event coincided with our week – the Corpus Christi Festival. An orchestral dirge, sounding like the religious parades from Godfather II, came through the windows on Sunday. We went in search and found the parade of new communion girls in beautiful white dresses coming from the cathedral and accompanied by the band, walking through Chinchon throwing flower petals into open doors.

Thursday was the shoe pick-up for the show in Santander. I was far from the professional job I had been led to expect. Only one person arrived driving the truck to Santander, so Anemi and I carried up all the boxes to the studio. The guy was bit of a rube so I packed everything myself. Anemi called to make sure someone else would be there to help carry the boxes in, so the boss, Jefe´ had to come and make his son work. The story is called “The Jefe´, His Son and the Rube.” Ask me later…

I went into Madrid with Karen Olsen and Dee Ann West, 2 students who stayed an extra day to make sure of their hotel. I also wasted a colossal amount of time trying to cancel a lost credit card -DON’T ask me later!

The next evening was the once a year free Flamenco festival, and like last year, Chinchon had marvelous artists. I was sorry the group missed it.

So now everyone has left and I’ll doing some small paintings…. instead of the 6 Seasons group from last year, now in Santander being readied for the September show, I’m doing 2 sets of 5 Seasons.

Going to London on Saturday to be closer to Stansted airport (from where I fly to Cyprus) after last year´s near catastrophe when my flight from Madrid was 4 hours late and I had to travel between airports by taxi. Flight was closed but by strange good fortune, and a suited man who rushed me through security waving his badge, I made it. I want to avoid these kinds of adventures from now on. So I’ll write from Cyprus, visiting my sister Rachael and her gang of 4 next week.

Getting out of London proved to be as challenging as getting in. First the taxi to pick me up was late because it went to the wrong address. Then the BA counter people at bag Drop/ Check in told me that if I did not have evidence on me of a ticket or printed boarding pass to LEAVE Spain that I could be returned on the next plane. Well I did have a reservation but certainly no printout. I told them I had never had a problem. ¨

“Well, luv, every thing has changed now. They have got very strict.” -Did I have a Blackberry that could show them my reservation? EEK!

They called upstairs to see if the computer there had a printer. No. Anyway I thought the best thing would be for me to at least write down my reservation code for the 27th.

That done, I got a sandwich.

Now, a clear warning to all who might use this airport: There are NO ANNOUNCEMENTS! My first look at the Departure screen I saw no listing for my flight at all. The very next time I glanced it said FINAL CALL!
I must have misread something… So I took off and at the gate realized I’d left my blue linen jacket on the seat in the waiting area. Mid-flight I realized my Tilly hat was missing as well! Two down…

During the flight I worked on putting together a reasonable explanation for my trip to Spain. I didn’t care to make the same blunder I’d made coming into London. So, I must tell them that I am coming to Chinchon, NOT to work, but for the transport of my shoes to Santander, which is true actually. In line waiting I was on pins and needles, but I was waved through as if there was a breeze at my back. Retrieved my rollies. Made my way to Pza. Conde de Casal where it was a grey windy day. I had to keep stopping since my scarves were blowing dangerously off my neck, finally tied them down and wended my way to the last bus, 3:37 to Chinchon.

As I bumped down the streets with the badly behaved and unbalanced rollies, I felt pretty wiped out but knew I was on the final leg. Walked up the 2 floors to the piso and got a shock when I opened the door.
The first thing that caught my eye was THE CHAIR… Oscar had transformed it into a work of art. About ten years ago, while walking in Quito, he’d found a group of negatives just strewn across the ground. They were haunting portraits of unknown young men. Fascinated, Oscar had printed up dozens of them. Now he’d taken one of those lovely prints and placed it behind glass into the back of the chair. Stunning -I want a set of 12!!!

Oscar had gone all out getting things ready for my arrival. Light fixtures where there had been wires dangling. No shoes armada on the floor. THEY WERE GONE! I thought: “Great, they picked them up already.” But then I turned round to find shelves had been built and up to the ceiling they were filled with shoes.
And over here: A KITCHEN SINK. No more dishwashing in the bidet! But most of all, a beautiful chair that had
been there forever was now finished with a photograph behind glass for the back. All my paintings on the wall. The table I bought last year was put together for the class. All things I had meant to do. Everything white and immaculate, it could have been photographed for Architecture Design Artist studio. It was an OASIS!
I had dinner with Carla and family, and set right to work organizing for the arrival of my students Thursday morning.

After finishing the 2nd posting at Qaran Express off Camden Road and doing mostly packing I decided to take the 88 bus to Tate Britain, to see the Richard Long’s exhibit ¨Heaven and Earth.” My friend Alistair Johnson, who works at the TB as a frame restorer had been quite passionate about his work and about the show. I was a bit more skeptical, earth art, walking piles of stones photographed… BUT, important to see before broadcasting a Yea or Nay. I am extremely glad I went even for the final hour on Sunday afternoon. It was a beautifully hung and presented. The impressive giant wall mud paintings done in situe linked rooms of documented walks and maps.

London June 1 – June 8, has been a series of meanderings from my austere lodging at Goldsmiths Hall, no ensuite bathroom but a huge bath at the end of the corridor that it seems only I use every evening to soak my aching bones. Off in the morning for an Americano, a large mug of hot water with 4 espresso, seems to get me going.

I’ve had to pick and choose a bit, about what art to see, although Tate Modern is in between 2 great shows, Rodchenko and the Futurists, so it was narrowed down. BUT without doubt, sin duda, best art seen, was a diptych that opened “Garden and Cosmos,” at the British Museum called “Sage Markeandaya’s Ashram and the Ocean of Milk.” An indigo blue/purple Vishnu sleeps peacefully in a boat of what looks like 15 albino moray eels on a sea of grey incised with delicate black lines. The other side is a more conventional decorative Indian painting. This was a knockout. Other work in the exhibit also had a startling originality but this one gave me what I call “the whiplash effect.”
Chris Kenny, a friend and artist here, directed me to the Samuel Johnson house, off an alley close to Fleet Street, to see “The House Of Words,” an exhibit of text cut and pasted, sliced and diced, text laser cut into fine arabseques, text elevated above TEXTING. All this to celebrate the tri-centenary of SJ’s birth.

I wanted to venture into more alternative venues… Parasol Unit on Wharf Road by Angel had “Parades and Procession: Here Comes Everybody.” The piece most photographed for the show was an installation of what looked like mannequin arms poking through insulation foam painted day-glo orange by Thomas Hirschhorn. This proved hazardous for me. As I was turning to leave I tripped over a corner and squeaky sound got the gallery gal running to the scene, to see the damage. It was CHIPPED. I apologised but said that I thought if it’s going to be on the floor…(And here I am trying to convince my venue to have my shoes on the floor!) And the William Kentridge shadow puppet ‘movie’ was best. Parasol was once ‘alternative’ but I was told not so much now by a cognoscenti I followed in.

I visited England and Co., a gallery on Westbourne Grove where Chris shows his work, and found more text scissor wizardry from Georgia Russell. Quite an amazing work, actually done with a scalpel.
So what else is there after art but food. As in Baltimore a big coffee, but without Othello. I carry a small Moleskin book and begin the daily scribbling that continues on the subway and whenever I’m seated. Although the scribbles become unrecognizable I still believe they are the best way to record time.
Best meal for on-the-run between places: Pret a Manger, or Pretty Mange. A chain… but decent.
Best breakfast and on the go food, as always, celery carried in my back pack. Dinner is always a bit weird. I enjoy traveling alone but going into a restaurant for dinner solo is always hmm……….”Table for one?” Always the question mark. Plus I have never liked being served. Sometimes I go the Whole Food, yes there is one around the corner, buy a special and sit at a table on the sidewalk.

Last night it was late and brought back olives wine and cheese etc.. .
Even lunch at a Lebanese salad bar was weird. They put me front and center. And I put hummus on what I think what was supposed to be a dessert, but looked like pita. The food was actually great.
Thursday night, I saw a fantastic Iranian Film, “The Colour of Paradise” (1990) at the British Museum.
I also saw “Sleep Furiously,” directed by Gideon Koppel. About a small Welsh village, I guess it will get to the US soon, remarkable.

Otherwise no HUGE catastrophe, but still, small blunders. I had to buy an alarm clock to get up early on Monday flight day. I tested it and it DIDN’T work! Ah—How clever I was to test it – Yes? So I ran out to the small shop before it closed and breathlessly said: “Remember me from early this morning?” “YES ” “Well the alarm doesn’t work on this!” He took it, and popped something up, and it WENT OFF. I rolled my eyes, apologized and slunk out. A couple of those sorts of things this week actually, but that was the latest.

I also had a lovely lunch with Jacquie Ryder and Franca her eldest daughter (my pal as a kid). Jacquie is Chris Kenny’s mother in law. Ryders and Pettuses were very good friends in London and it’s always a pleasure to see whoever is available while I’m here.

As always I’m on the look out for shoes. Alistair Johnson found a tiny infant shoe when he Dian and I walked to a pub for dinner. I picked it up and have been working on it with olive pits and dark fleece from Victoria’s sheep in Lincolnshire. I often pass a boot, just out of reach on Park Village East. I’ve been tempted to climb over the wall to get it! I’m thinking maybe next year I’ll set up shop in Goldsmiths Hall and begin a group of London shoes.

31 May, 2009

My trip to the UK was interesting and dotted with pleasant little synchronicities… Waiting for the plane Breon Gilleron (works with steel sculpture) re-introduced herself to me. On the flight, seniors from the Baltimore School for the Arts were going to Surrey to perform “Our Town” with an English group. Seated across and two rows up from me, was Dan Meyers and Annete Couwenberg ’s daughter Maya. Nancy Krebs a theatre teacher in the High School knew two other friends of mine: Ivan, a new student and Felicia German, an alumna from quite a few years back, now living in Spain.

All that seemed to bode well, but going through customs I erred by saying I would be teaching a workshop. So there I sat with “the undesirables” for 2 hours before finally getting through with 6 months stamped on my passport, just to make up for “for the inconvenience”!!

I then made my way to the home of Diane Margolis and Alistair Johnson by subway and realized that having two rolling suitcases was hazardous on escalators. No details, but escaping a disaster for all —by a feather’s breath. From now on one case per escalator…

I had a lovely 3 nights with Diane and Alistair and made time to meet Breon and her husband Rob Roca for lunch at Whitechapel Gallery.

I left London Thursday for Lincolnshire to teach a weekend workshop for Wicked Stepmothers World, run by my sister Katherine’s best friend from High School, Victoria Merrick. The four people who signed up did some great work. The weather is beautiful and I enjoyed the atmosphere, artwork, not to mention a lovely lunch. Tomorrow it’s back to London, and so far no real mishaps of my own making!!

Link highlighted items to:

http://www.wickedstepmothersworld.co.uk/

http://www.whitechapelgallery.org.

http://www.Breongilleran.com

Ruth Pettus will chronicle her travels in Europe during the summer. Please subscribe to receive her experience on her 4 month voyage from England to Spain. Her summer will culminate in Santander for her exhibition “De Paso”. Each posting will be paired with a piece to be shown in “De Paso”.

For questions, please contact: press@mrsalmon.com