Life’s been
pretty busy. A PGCE followed by NQT teaching has taken up a lot of time, but
in the last month or so, I’ve been getting some of my life back. And yesterday, I got Art Exhibitions back.
Carenza,
knowing how much I admire John Singer Sargent, had spotted an exhibition at the
National Portrait Gallery, so we decided to go.
As we set off, I found myself checking twice that I’d locked the front
door - always a symptom that I’m feeling slightly guilty about taking a day out,
doing something pleasurable.
I LOVED the
Singer Sargents. The revelation was not
how great his painting was – I already knew that - but just how many important
cultural figures he knew socially. And
the fact that he was also an accomplished musician.
“How on earth
did he manage it all?” asked Carenza.
I checked
the labels for scant biographical information:
“No wife or
kids.”
After Singer Sargent, Carenza led me to the white-painted halls of the Saatchi Gallery where we basked
in the colour and pattern of the paintings, and were particularly fascinated by
a room of tree art.
Root and branch
together.
I am glad
both that Singer Sargent had no children to distract him and also that I do
have them.
No comments:
Post a Comment