Monday, September 11th 2006


a trip to the MFA, where our hero encounters Whistler’s Mother in a crowd, surrounded by snakes, lobsters, fish and frogs, and various and sundry very naughty animals, domesticated and wild
posted by Mike Mennonno @ 12:18 pm in [ MBTA - Boston - nonesuch ]

Fortunately, a friend of mine was able to wrangle up some free tickets to the “Americans in Paris” exhibition at the MFA. I say “fortunately” because after seeing it, I know I would have been upset by it had I paid twenty-three bucks to get in. Sunday morning was definitely not the time to go. Here’s what it was like:

It should be heartening to see so many people getting excited about 19th Century art, I guess. But it’s actually not hard to see the appeal (it was much harder to see the art, in fact)–not much has really changed since then, as for the aspirations of the middle class. Styles of dress have come and gone, but the modus operandi is intact. We can still identify fully with Mary Cassatt’s subjects. We may think we have come a long way, baby, since Sargent’s Madame X scandalized society in 1884, but artists and advertisers are operating along the same lines today.

Aside from Madame X, the show’s centerpiece seems to have been Whistler’s Arrangement in Grey and Black: The Artist’s Mother, 1871, which people in the gallery flocked to, for some reason. There seems to be a sentimental attachment to the picture that goes utterly counter to the artist’s intentions for it. He painted it as an arrangement of objects, essentially, not as a portrait. But sentimentality was the lens through which art and culture were viewed by the bourgeois in the Victorian era. And not much has changed in this, either.

“Whistler’s Mother” was given a wall of its own, which further lent it an aura of importance. The exhibition organizers seemed to say, “lookit, here’s something.” I’m not sure if it would have commanded quite as much attention if it had been presented differently. Not that it’s not worthy, in its way. It’s an interesting picture, with an interesting past, for sure.

I didn’t spend much time scrutinizing it, myself, though. It was hard to spend much time with any one painting, there were so many people pressing to get up close and personal with all of them. It was so crowded and stuffy in the hall, that we didn’t spend much time there–I think we were probably in and out in fifteen minutes.

I decided it would be more fun to hunt the halls of the MFA for animal portraiture, anyway. This took us to several galleries, where we found some snakes, lobsters, fish and frogs:

(All on this delightful mid-16th century oval platter attributed to Bernard Pallisy, which my friend said would be an absolute bitch to clean. I told him, not to worry, we have people for that. He scoffed, saying, “and anyway what on earth would you serve in it?” I told him I thought Jell-O would be cool.)

And, of course there were lots of dogs, doing what dogs do. Far too many for this humble blog (they deserve an art-dog blog of their own). But here are a couple of my favorites:

Emanuel de Witte’s Interior of the Nieuwe Kerk, Amsterdam, 1677

and:

David Teniers, The Younger’sButcher Shop, 1642

On our way out of the museum we had to drop by the Rococo Room, where they’ve got this magnificent Boucher displayed:

Now, what would you guess the title of this painting is? The Battle of…? Perhaps The Triumph of…?Actually it’s Return from Market. What an ordeal, eh? All for a few eggs, a hunk of cheese, and a loaf of bread. It reminded me a little of getting to Trader Joe’s by T, truth be told.



Monday, September 11th 2006


Great Moments in T cinematic History: Next Stop Wonderland
posted by Mike Mennonno @ 9:20 am in [ MBTA - fear & loathing in Boston - city life - Boston ]
I caught the last half of Next Stop Wonderland, which was released back in ‘98 but which I did not rush right out and see at the time for some reason, last night. Let me just say, first of all: she should have gone to Brazil, because if there were a Wonderland II, Orange Line (Next stop: Roxbury Crossing!), Hope Davis would have found that the dude whose armpit she wound up in (the actor’s name is Cheeseman, for chrissake) was a freakin crystal meth addict who was going to end up stealing her paychecks and blowing all their income on cross-dressing prostitutes he’s picked up at Jacques, thus forcing them to live two blocks from Jackson Square.

I did find the scene where she finally meets Mr. He’ll-Have-To-Do fairly accurate, I have to say. She’s on her way to the airport via blue line train, to catch a flight to São Paulo with some guy (well, not just some guy–the muito delicioso José Zúñiga, for the love of pete) she met only a couple days before. But she’s got misgivings. See, he’s a little too something for her. You know, his je ne sais quoi is off the charts. Mostly what he had too much of, seemed like to me, was sex appeal. Because everyone else in this movie was just utterly Blah. Ol’ hopeless Hope could’ve used someone like José to find her freak switch, and flip it on for her. Instead, she finds herself in thin-lipped Cheeseman’s armpit, totally intoxicated by his cheesiness, apparently, and they run off to Revere Beach together. Now, that’s romance!

Anyway, what I found accurate, as I was saying, was when she’s on the blue line train, before ending up in Cheeseman’s armpit, and she looks around at all the people crowded into it during the morning rush hour, and it’s like the train of the living dead. I thought, right on. That’s it. You look around on the T and that’s just what you see. Zombies. Thinking to themselves: “why can’t I just die, already?”

And then she runs off with one of the living dead, to have zombie crack babies (hey, that’d be a great name for a band, don’t you think?)! And José finds another blonde on the plane to make eyes at and serenade with samba. All’s well that ends well.




Monday, September 11th 2006


I guess it could be worse
posted by Mike Mennonno @ 7:07 am in [ MBTA ]
Check out these shots of the Moscow subway.