It’s been a bit of a quiet week, which hasn’t been a terrible thing. I’ve noticed that as it gets dark by 5pm now, the desire to go anywhere in the evening has dropped somewhat. Factor the cold temperatures and Glen not getting home until after 6 most nights and staying in starts to look pretty good. But I haven’t been idle.
During the day I’ve been writing, probably more than I’ve done in a long time. I’m taking part in Nanowrimo and am keeping up with the word count, which is a good thing.
Having recently sold a book to a publisher in Australia, I’m trying my best to get the sequel written by the end of this year and edit it early next year. Considering how much “free” time I have, it shouldn’t be a problem. The book is meant to be out sometime in the first half of 2014 (probably the second quarter actually), which means I’ll have revisions coming through soon. Hopefully they’re not too extensive.
Monday I spent all day at home. The only time I left the apartment was to go downstairs to the gym. When Tuesday afternoon rolled around and the same thing had happened, I decided I had to get out so I went to the Art Gallery of Ontario to have another look at the David Bowie exhibition.
We’re gallery members which is great because I didn’t have to worry about getting my money’s worth at the exhibition. I zoomed around it in about half an hour or forty-five minutes, seeing things I hadn’t picked up on before or spending longer at some of the sections I rushed past last time due to the large crowd.
Favourites this time were the hand written lyrics for a song with a name I can’t remember. I think it was Why but I’m not sure. I took more notice of some of the costumes this time including a bunch of frock coats, half of which were designed by Alexander McQueen.
At the end of the exhibition there is a room that’s set up to resemble a concert with music and lights and mannequins of Bowie in costume. Most people hugged the edges of the room but in the middle were two middle-aged women dancing to the music. Good on them, I say. That takes guts.
Afterwards, I had a quick look in one of the French galleries where there were two Rodin sculptures (Adam and The Thinker), a wall of impressionist paintings spaced out in a line and opposite a wall full of realistic paintings, a Waterhouse was in there too. I think it’s one of my favourite rooms in the gallery. The juxtaposition of the styles, the inclusion of this impressive sculptures and an overload of colour and stories.
I then went upstairs to the Galleria Italia, which looks like the hull of a ship but with glass in-between the beams. Even though it wasn’t a particularly bright day, and the sun was starting to go down (it being about 3pm), there is such a sense of light and space in this area. I sat and watched the houses/offices opposite, the calm sensation only slightly marred by a group of people setting up for a function that evening.
Wednesday was starting to look much like Monday and Tuesday, a day at home. Glen had academic day but left sometime in the morning to go to the hospital to collate data. After I’d written some words for the day, I went to the library in the afternoon to have a play on one of their pianos.
You can book one of two piano keyboards for half an hour. I got there, put my name down and was told that a woman in the room with headphones 2 was due to finish up so I could take her place. I went there, two people in the room, one woman. I asked if she had headphones 2, she said no, that it was someone else. Anyway, long story short, she wasn’t going anywhere.
I went back to the librarian, asked about it and she took me back and told the woman that her time was up. I make it sound like I tattled but really I was just confused and wondering how long you could use the keyboard for. The woman had had it for two hours. Anyway, I had a play for about half an hour, trying to perfect (and memorise) eight bars of a Mozart sonata. My memory is terrible.
In the evening I booked tickets for Glen and I to see Antony Gormley speak as part of an annual lecture delivered at the Royal Ontario Museum. Glen and I had both seen it advertised and decided against it but on Wednesday I had a sudden urge or thought that perhaps it would be interesting and engaging, perhaps seeing something new would be good for us.
We went for dinner at Lola’s Kitchen (a street away from where we live) because the chicken I’d defrosted was off. The food at the restaurant was pretty good, different, tasty and not expensive. We then walked through the cold to the ROM and joined a horde of mostly over-40s, taking an uncomfortable fold-out seat.
The idea behind the lecture was meant to be about how nature affects culture and culture affects nature. I can see how Gormley might be a good person to talk on this subject considering how so many of his sculptures and artworks are about people in space.
What does raise alarm bells is when the artist stands up and says he’s spent the past two days in his hotel room in the Windsor Arms thinking about what he’s going to talk about. Now, I’ve known about this lecture for a couple of weeks yet he only came up with what he was going to talk about over the past two days?
The first half an hour or more was taken up talking aimlessly about various concepts to do with the purpose of art, the importance of the effects of climate change on human existence, and even our own extinction. I can’t remember exactly because I started to vague out or fidget (depending how uncomfortable I was at the time).
My interest was raised more when he was talking about his artworks though even then only mildly. One piece he did, with about 300 Chinese workers, called Asian Field, was of 210,000 clay figures with two indentations for eyes, all arranged in a room. Now that was impressive.
However, just like listening to directors or writers talk about their work, it’s much more interesting to see the work than hear a whole bunch of buzz words and “deep” language. Meaning is made by the viewer and while it’s occasionally nice to hear what the artist has to say about it, when that happens they should at least be succinct and insightful, instead of rambling and all over the place.
The lecture was scheduled from 7pm to 8:30pm, with the intention that a Canadian art critic would come on stage towards the end and ask Gormley questions and then take questions from the audience. He talked until 8:30, posing about twenty questions as a conclusion.
I’d had enough and could barely stay awake. Glen teased and said he wanted to remain so I called his bluff. We snuck away. So did about 30 other people. Art critics and questions be damned.
But if nothing else, it gave us something to talk about on the way back through the cold to the crepe shop. I like Gormley’s art but perhaps a question and answer type lecture would have been better and more useful. So I give the evening a 2 out of 5.
Today it’s a grey day. I’ve been to the gym. I’m about to head out. We might be having dinner with the fellows tonight but we’re not sure yet. This weekend will be pretty quiet too I think, apart from a couple of dinners. But still, life is good.
Travels with Dan 
What do you say, eh?