tour

Prepping for Madrid

January 5, 2015 by Virginia Parker 1 Comment

I’ll be landing at Barajas airport in 87 days.

I’ve fired up the app https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/dreamdays-countdown-to-days/id585947384?mt=8 that does a automatic countdown. When I peek at it, I get a little frisson of anticipatory pleasure. The Mary Cassatt painting of a matador in his suit of lights is my Dreamdays trip image. Is he lighting up in the spirit of a final smoke before the firing squad, or in a post-coital mood, spent with relief at surviving his bullfight? Now that the holidays are over, I’m buckling down to research, accumulating possibilities for my day by day planner, and pre-booking tickets and museum passes.

Most of the museums I plan to see have pages on Facebook and I spent a happy couple of hours making a new Madrid/Lisbon interest list for my newsfeed. I’m now getting updates that give me glimpses of the paintings and treasures I’ll be seeing in person. And hooray for that handy ‘translate’ tab at the bottom of foreign language posts. It’s not perfect, but I get the gist.

Filled in the April day-by-day calendar with preliminary excursions and quickly realized there won’t be enough hours in the days or days in the month to fit in everything I’d like to see. Decisions must be made – El Escorial or the Royal Palace? I’ll take those kinds of inquiries to www.TripAdvisor.com which has never failed to give me cogent advice.

Figuring out which days museums are closed, what holiday to be aware of, the best days and times to visit is a lovely puzzle. I like having rain vs shine options too. Getting those all-important museum passes that permit me to bypass lines will gain me time that otherwise I might have squandered. I’ve booked one tour, with Context Travel. I’ve had excellent experiences with them in the Vatican Museum and Rembrandt’s House in Amsterdam.

I yearned to stay at the Hotel Orfila for my last five days in Madrid, but it’s really pricey, and I worried it couldn’t possibly be as lovely as I imagined. Then I came across this on the Wendy Perrin travel site: “Best bang-for-your-buck hotel -Orfila, a 32-room hotel housed in a nineteenth-century palace that feels more like a family home than a five-star Relais & Chateaux property. It is located only 15 minutes by foot from the Prado Museum in a quiet, mostly residential neighborhood. Rooms are furnished in top-quality antiques that the owner has been collecting for years, and there is a beautiful garden for guests to enjoy. It’s the kind of place where you get much more than you pay for.” That last sentence pushed me over the edge, and I found a ‘four days for the price of one’ deal, and booked it. Okay it didn’t push, I gladly jumped. Wouldn’t you? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPZw-sbU1SA

Practiced my Spanish on Duolingo, something I’ve promised myself to do five days a week until I leave. It’s day 2.

Madrid Unfiltered, April 10

April 12, 2015 by Virginia Parker Leave a Comment

Friday, April 10

Hiked over to the Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales (Convent of the Barefoot Noblewomen), Plaza de las Descalzas, 3, just six minutes away. Tours are limited to 20 people and only two tours in English daily. I arrived at 10:45, and was issued a ticket for noon. Perfect! I wandered through the streets in search of my daily caffeine fix. I avoid the large plazas – side streets have better service and lower prices. Meandering paid off. Five minutes later I had a table and a café con leche and a croissant. The croissant was fresh and tender. The best I’ve eaten, with the exception of Bob Bon’s which cannot be surpassed.

Fortified, I was waiting by the forbidding, grim entrance doors by 11:45. The guards were turning people away, sold out for the day. A better option is to book online, but only Spanish language tours are offered.

We waited in an anteroom lined with paintings of angels. The mood was quiet and respectful, something I like to see in my fellow tourists. Photographs were forbidden, and I didn’t cheat because, you know, nuns. I pulled these off Google Image. I watched a clueless older man who considered himself an exception get his knuckles rapped.

A dignified man of quiet authority with a particularly beautiful Spanish accent led the tour. If words were music, he spoke in glissandos. The Grand Staircase brought to mind the Benozzo Gozzoli chapel in the Palazzo Medici in central Florence.

https://medicipatronsaints.wordpress.com/works-in-the-exhibition/benozzi-gozzoli-journey-of-the-magi/

Every inch painted with dazzling frescoes covering walls, arches, ceiling, and balustrades. Added in the 17^th century, the colors were still brilliant.

I was struck by a trompe-l’oeil balcony scene beside the staircase with King Felipe IV, Queen Mariana, and their little floss-haired infanta Margarita Teresa, looking much as she does in Velázquez’s Las Meninas. Here’s a brightly lit photo – look on the wall to the left.

Joanna of Austria founded this convent in 1559, and for 100 years the convent attracted young widowed or spinster noblewomen who brought their lavish dowries with them. Clearly, these ladies were more noble than barefoot. Not that I doubt their devotion, but I can’t help wondering if they chose Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales over being bossed around by men at court. The convent was ruled by women, their own world of wealth and privilege, art and music. Spain’s finest Renaissance composer, Tomas Luis de Victoria, worked at the convent for 25 years. How dreary could it have been?

We followed our guide, and were followed by his assistant, a young, doe-eyed, dark-haired woman, who looked like half of the portraits of Virgin we passed. Her task was to move the stragglers along the wide hallways of the upper cloister. Mullioned windows overlooked a sunny, grassy courtyard, planted with orange trees. Fruit hung in the green boughs. To quote another visitor, one fully expected to see a unicorn canter by.The guide explained about the founding of the order, and what made various paintings or sculptures noteworthy. Except for the occasional bench, the rooms of the cloister we saw were empty, but so embellished that they felt replete.

Some pieces I keep thinking about:

The Virgin of Guadalupe shrine enclosed by a pair of riotously rococo gilded and carved doors. The altar was made of stacked mirrored panels, and the 68 panels feature matriarchs of the Old Testament painted by Sebastián Herrera Barnuevo. Girl power!

A pair of golden crowns – open in the center for a king and closed like a helmet for an emperor – resting on purple velvet pillows. I have no clue why there were there.

Tapestries designed by Rubens and made in Brussels in the 17th century. Displayed in the former nuns’ dormitories, they curved up into the high ceiling and swept the floor.

The Flemish room of paintings, including one of a ship sailing for heaven while sinners sank in the seas, pulled down by demons, and a Deësis of the Virgin Mary, Christ Blessing, and Saint John the Baptist. Very like one I just saw in the Prado.

The many, many portraits of Juana.

Little robes for altar figures made by the nuns – like divine doll clothes.

A carved and painted wooden statue of the grieving Magdalene wearing a garment that looks like woven basketry – such intricate carving.

A shrine, set low in the wall, with miniature figures made of silver. It was for the edification of the children of women who came to the convent after marriage.

And, of course, at every turn there were virgins virgins virgins, Mary depicted in all her different aspects. It’s worth mentioning one of Fra Angelico’s Annunciations was taken from the cloister to the Prado. According to our guide, it took a royal edict to override the nuns’ protest. Note the unusual depiction of Adam and Eve leaving Eden fully clothed.

I wondered if the richness and the beauty, the might and power these acquisitions represent distracted the nuns or was a conduit to the divine? Or maybe it faded into background noise after a few decades of prayer and service. I was only there an hour and a half. I could’ve stayed a week.

Afterward, it took me a minute to return to the 21^st century. Decided to go in search of that tee shirt place I’d found and lost. Success! Picked up a portable lunch from a bakery. Walked through Retiro Park towards the Prado. I planned to sit on a bench and eat little sausage-stuffed croissants and squares of tiramisu. Note: there is no cholesterol in Spain. This fact is well known.

The park is large, the trees leafed out in pale spring green, and the paths broad, well laid out, and a pleasure to walk. The problem was there were very few people. Two runners in 20 minutes, no children playing, no families, no one eating lunch. I expected it would be well populated on this beautiful day. I saw a few men sleeping on benches, and three burly men on either side of a path that gave me hard stares. So, no. I kept going, and ate as I walked.

I returned to the Prado. That’s another great thing about the museum pass, it’s reasonable to drop by for a couple of hours. I went to the earliest section, which made me wish I had a Bible to consult. I know the basics, of course. A Presbyterian childhood is all about the bible stories. I can spot a Magdalene or Noah or Christ confounding the doctors from across the room, but I mostly know my expurgated, childhood version of the stories.

I sat for an hour and drew details of demons being slain by the Archangel Michael (and his footwear) on postcards for my family. The Prado: where the wild things are. So satisfying. I am starting to miss the act of painting.

Ducked into a room on the way out that had a vibrant Sorolla painting of boys lying in surf that makes me determined to visit his museum. The next door room held four enormous narrative paintings on a grand scale; a blighted lovers tale, a betrayal and mass execution, a despairing prince in exile, and a knight’s conversion to Christianity when confronted by a rotting corpse. Thought of contemporary realism painters that have no place now. What a loss.

Did a bit of shopping in the Prado gift store. You didn’t expect me to pass by a tee shirt with Velázquez’s signature on it, did you? Walked back via Calle Cervantes and picked up my dinner en route.

Tomorrow, Belle Arte and lunch at the avant-garde restaurant, Al Trapo.

Madrid Unfiltered April 14

April 17, 2015 by Virginia Parker Leave a Comment

Tuesday, April 14

Skipped breakfast and headed straight to the Royal Palace. Kept hearing Cinderella’s song in my head, from the Into the Woods musical, ‘He’s a very nice prince…’ Though since his father, Juan Carlos, abdicated last year, the Prince is now King Felipe VI, and his heir presumptive is his eldest daughter Leonor, Princess of Asturias. Here’s a photo I like of the three generations of Spanish royals. Yeah, she’s got this.

Here’s me in front of the Palacio Real de Madrid. The royal family doesn’t live here. It’s like the company headquarters, the main office where they meet clients and sign paperwork.

It’s pretty much grandeur, everywhere you look. Here’s the view from where I’m standing –

There were swarms of humans buzzing around the palace. The first guard I approached shook his head at my Spain museum card. I walked on to another entrance and the security guard looked at it and waved me through. I still paid admission, happy to, but I wasn’t in line behind the sixty zillion tour groups of Asians and school children. Win!

Asked at the ticket counter about a tour in English, and as luck would have it there was one in twenty minutes for an additional four euros. What a deal. It turned out to be a nice young woman guide and a young couple from Brooklyn. A private tour, basically.

Sadly no photos permitted, except in the front entry, the grand staircase, and a corridor.

Just to give you a sense of the scale.Again, looking upThe guide’s English was so-so, but her enthusiasm and patience were stellar. At one point, after the over-the-top state dining room (formerly three rooms of the Queens and rococo as all get out) she gave us a number of personal recommendations for places to eat. Apparently, Clinton was the last President to officially visit Spain, and he is still highly regarded for this in Spain. Maybe Clinton will be the next President to visit, too. Just putting it out there.

We toured around twenty rooms of the palace and there are thousands more. It was built after a fire on Christmas Even in 1734 destroyed the former Alcázar (they threw Las Meninas out of a window to save it).

There is so much freaking splendor, it feels both aggressive and oppressive – behold the power and might of Reino de España – it’s clearly more suited to be a national heritage museum than any place you’d want to raise a family.

If you are like me, you wonder – who cleans this stuff? I mean, they’d have to have high-level security clearance to start, and arcane cleaning skills to cope with silk wallpaper and walls decorated with 200-year-old porcelain bas-reliefs, not to mention miles of Spanish marble floors, gilded carved wood frames, French crystal chandeliers by the score with a thousand lights a pop (currently halogen). No mop and go. King Charles IV was another clock aficionado, like our friend the Marquis de Cerralbo. Clocks were the latest in technology and science, the iPhone of their age, said the guide. Dozens of these clocks are in the palace, all in working order. Who winds them? For that matter, who dusts the collection of Stradivarius? It’s got to be a highly paid, niche career.

I was in love with the sphinx table, where the former king signed the abdication papers.

The guide explained that the King and Queen never sit on the thrones, they stand on the steps because the monarchy no longer rules the people. Interesting but I’d bet cash money King Felipe sat on that throne at least once when he was a boy.

A family portrait, recently unveiled and decades in the painting, has an interestingly retro /modern feel – the lightness of the background, the brushwork varying from loose to precise, the dated clothes (oh why, Queen Sophia? Why shoulder pads and big florals?) the visible grid. It’s no Las Meninas, but it’s interesting.

The current monarch is impossibly handsome, not often the case for the prior job holders. I wonder if he ever takes his daughter to the office on Bring Your Kid to Work day, or when Mom has to open a fête. Queen Letizia is a beauty, if frighteningly thin. I wish her future highness all the best. Go ladies!

Dropped some ducats in the gift shop. As souvenirs go, they were classy. Afterwards strolled through the garden to a restaurant our guide recommended, Taverna Botin. The smells of the grilled lamb and roast beef wafted out onto the street – alluring. Ordered the menu del dia – soup, stew, wine and apple fritter. I did the reverse of Christ at Cana, replaced wine with water, but otherwise ate what came. I had forgotten what nutrition tasted like. The soup (broth, thin noodles, chickpea) was delicious, and the stew, to my surprise, tasted like really, really good Brunswick stew.

The last thing I expected was a southern Georgia flavor. I could feel my body cheering for protein after two weeks of mostly pastry, jambon, and café con leche. I was so stuffed I couldn’t finish the fritter.I was seated in the foreign tourists’ room – all Austrian, Asian and Americans – but the food was tasty and satisfying so it mattered not. Read Grace Burrowes’ latest, The Duke’s Disaster (also tasty and satisfying) on my iPad, leisurely ate my meal, and afterwards embraced my first siesta.

Madrid Unfiltered, April 17th

April 19, 2015 by Virginia Parker Leave a Comment

Friday, April 17

An exchange of emails landed me a spot on an English language tour of the Cerralbo and I presented myself promptly at 11:15 on Friday. There is little signage in this museum. Mostly standing plaques at the entry to a room offer a general statement about its use, with a few items identified for particular notice. Very few painters are named in any room or gallery, and several that have identifying plaques, with the exception of an El Greco, turn out to be not genuine. That said, it’s refreshing assess paintings and objet d’art not by provenance or the reputation of the artist, but purely how they strike you in the moment.

Recall the weaponry that the Marquis collected? Here’s is a tidy quartet of daggers.

Compare them to his collection of Bronze age weaponry. Below is a centerpiece made entirely of swords belong to his ancestors. He was the XVII of his line. Here’s the smoking room, adjacent to swords central. These rooms were considered an all-male preserve. I was thinking it would not be a good idea to have a bunch of touchy aristos slamming brandy around all that weaponry.

Columns topped with the busts of gods on the center table, including an Egyptian Anubis.

And here I am, badly lit but happy as can be, in one of the hall galleries.

While at university, the Marquis founded an art and literature society, La Alborada (Dawn). He wrote poems and romantic novels. He collected what he considered beautiful, and filled his home with luxury, opulence, and heaps of ornate objects. The reason Spain has this museum is there was no Marquis the XVIII. He had no heirs. Fun fact – he married the mother of his best friend at school, a widow who was no beauty and thirty years his senior. I find myself wondering what their story was.

Here’s one of a pair of statues at the entrance to the ballroom.

And, finally, a fragment of the fresco on the ballroom ceiling.

Lunch was kind of a fluke. I was walking by the post office, AKA Cibeles Palace, and remembered a blogger mentioning great views and a café or restaurant inside. Just curious, I went through the security scanner and headed inside. Yes, there was a café, but also a restaurant, higher up on the 6th floor.

The hostess said ‘May I invite you to look at the menu?” before they led me to a table. I appreciated their discreet way of warning me what I was getting my wallet into. This is why I make my own breakfast and eat cheese, fruit and ham from the market for dinner. I saw the numbers, did some math, and rolled the dice.

I should’ve bought a lottery ticket too.

A gorgeous view on a perfect day. Gargoyles to the right of me, clouds scudding by to the left, and a fresh breeze to cool the sun. It was pricey but well worth it. The kind of joint that brings on the amuse-bouche of strawberry soup and little bites when all you order is the sea bass entreé. A culinary highlight.

I also had (not one but two!) remarkable bread rolls that were savory, yet had raisins, and the perfect crisp-crust-to-soft-interior ratio. And they were warm.

One small caveat, at these prices, don’t you think they should’ve hired a proof reader?

I know my blog is replete with grammatical transgressions, but hey, it’s free.

Full Immersion

February 9, 2017 by Virginia Parker Leave a Comment

It’s been a full immersion baptism into planning for Rome, not just a sprinkle of water and swipe of oil. I am now a Patron of the Vatican Museums, dues paid and paperwork submitted. It took contacting the central office (Vatican City) the local chapter (Atlanta), and a delightful chat with the North American Chapter President, but the deed is done. They have been, one and all, very welcoming. I’m receiving a pin and packet of introductory material. If only there was a magic decoder ring too. If you are wondering if going to these lengths is worth it, take a gander at the Vatican’s Youtube Channel – it is a goldmine of inspiration.

I’ve asked for and received tentative permission to sketch, though they are asking which pieces, exactly, I have in mind. I sent a polite and humble email in response, the gist of it being, can I let you know after I’ve seen what is there? I admitted a preference for sculpture, still life and animals. I attached a photo of one of my sketchbooks because, yes, it’s worth a thousand words.

I assured them I am the soul of discretion and not disruptive. I have a feeling there will be some knots in this skein of silk, but once I am there and the guards have seen me at work, I don’t expect any real difficulties. All good thoughts to that end appreciated.

I’ve been moving all the pieces (venues) around on the board (calendar). I was dithering over tours, when Context Tours sent an email announcing a 20% off flash sale. I ended up booking a day trip to Tivoli, Hadrian’s Villa, and gardens of Villa d’Este close to the end of my trip. Should be warmer weather then, and less chance of rain. I’m joining a group tour, but they limit their groups to six and have very qualified docents.

I pondered several food tours, but the descriptions (mostly sampling gelato, espresso, and pizza ) just weren’t that compelling. I’m betting that between the people I know, the ones I meet, my three hosts suggestions, and apps like Katie Parla’s Rome and Eat Italy by Elizabeth Minchilli, I’ll have all the recommendations I require to dine well. Over the next few days, I’ll add places to eat to my homemade Rome Google Map.

The other tour I picked up from Context was the Palazzo Colonna, which I had no idea existed. Somehow it was not on my radar, but oh my word.
Seriously, how could I have missed this? Besides private tours, it’s open to the public on Saturday morning. I got tickets to see it the first Saturday in Rome, because once will definitely not be enough.

Stumbled across Mary Beard’s Ultimate Rome: Empire Without Limit a 2016 BBC documentary on Youtube. I love these indomitable, fierce, British bluestockings. I’ve been listening to her SPQR, A History of Rome on audiobook. Fascinating stuff. Puts that extra spring in my step at the gym I am in training for those seven hills.