Picasso: a Nazi Gallery
Trip Start
Jan 28, 2008
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27
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Trip End
Sep 18, 2008
We awoke pretty late after our big Easter night out. Angel had prepared a typical Spanish breakfast of toast, tomato slices, olive oil and salt.
Together we all enjoyed a few moments of Madrid sunshine before the rain clouds closed in again. Cam and I headed out for the afternoon, using the underground subway to get about. The City Tourism office was pretty helpful. The girl mentioned, among other things, to go to the Sofia Reina gallery, and that as it was Sunday afternoon it was free entry. So never ones to turn down gree entry, we trundled off in the drizzle to the Art Gallery. We found a 15 minute long line, and thought at this point maybe we should invest in some better rain gear.
Once inside, we realised that the majority of the building was dedicated to a special Picasso exhibit
In the first hallway we walked past what looked to me like a pile of play-doh blocks. I reached out to touch it. My first mistake. A nearby security guard hissed at me "no tocar". Cam patiently explained to me that, yes, we were in an art gallery, and what I had just touched was actually an exhibit. Feeling a little stunned, a bit stupid, and mostly annoyed at the unfreindliness, I headed into the main gallery with Cameron.
Straight away I realised the art was not what I was remembering from high school. There were lots of portraits with strange looking people with big feet and hands. I was still feeling belittled and tried to find a place to recover and read the brochure. I saw a chair, but was afriad to sit on it in case it was an exhibit. Instead I leaned on the wall. No sooner had I done this than another security guard raced up to yell at me something in Spanish about getting off the wall. I was peretty stunned again. Cameron explained to me that maybe there were wall sensors to protect the art, but by this stage I was OVER IT. It had also dawned on me that the art exhibit I had seen was not Picasso, but Matisse (two S letters had me confused).
Before we left the Art Gallery, I was hissed at once more, this time for walking in front of some people. For crying out loud it was CROWDED! What was I suppose to do? Crawl?
In summary, my Art Gallery experience was awful, and now I don't like Picasso OR art gallery security guards.
Oh yeah, I have no photos of this experience. At least I obeyed one rule.
Together we all enjoyed a few moments of Madrid sunshine before the rain clouds closed in again. Cam and I headed out for the afternoon, using the underground subway to get about. The City Tourism office was pretty helpful. The girl mentioned, among other things, to go to the Sofia Reina gallery, and that as it was Sunday afternoon it was free entry. So never ones to turn down gree entry, we trundled off in the drizzle to the Art Gallery. We found a 15 minute long line, and thought at this point maybe we should invest in some better rain gear.
Once inside, we realised that the majority of the building was dedicated to a special Picasso exhibit
The weekend markets were too expensive for us
. It was a collection visiting from Paris. Well, I was sure I had seen a Picasso exhibit years before at high school, and had really liked it. I described to Cameron paintings of bright colours and cool patterns. In the first hallway we walked past what looked to me like a pile of play-doh blocks. I reached out to touch it. My first mistake. A nearby security guard hissed at me "no tocar". Cam patiently explained to me that, yes, we were in an art gallery, and what I had just touched was actually an exhibit. Feeling a little stunned, a bit stupid, and mostly annoyed at the unfreindliness, I headed into the main gallery with Cameron.
Straight away I realised the art was not what I was remembering from high school. There were lots of portraits with strange looking people with big feet and hands. I was still feeling belittled and tried to find a place to recover and read the brochure. I saw a chair, but was afriad to sit on it in case it was an exhibit. Instead I leaned on the wall. No sooner had I done this than another security guard raced up to yell at me something in Spanish about getting off the wall. I was peretty stunned again. Cameron explained to me that maybe there were wall sensors to protect the art, but by this stage I was OVER IT. It had also dawned on me that the art exhibit I had seen was not Picasso, but Matisse (two S letters had me confused).
Before we left the Art Gallery, I was hissed at once more, this time for walking in front of some people. For crying out loud it was CROWDED! What was I suppose to do? Crawl?
In summary, my Art Gallery experience was awful, and now I don't like Picasso OR art gallery security guards.
Oh yeah, I have no photos of this experience. At least I obeyed one rule.


