Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art

Just a quick post after I went back the gallery, which was mainly closed for re-hanging when I was last there. Fully open today, and good fun. High Point: Arman Cello in Space, low point: the tartan trousers/skirts the staff wore. Yeuch.

Philip Kerr – The One From The Other

Twenty years ago, Kerr wrote the Berlin Noir trilogy of books, following a private eye called Bernie Gunther, working in Nazi Germany. They were, unsurprisingly, very dark but they were also very good, gripping and atmospheric. He’s now returned to Gunther with three more books, The One From The Other is the first. It’s set in 1949, while Germany undergoes a de-Nazification process. There’s no need to have read any of the previous novels in order to appreciate this one.

Once again, the best aspect of the novel is Kerr’s sense of place, the atmosphere envelopes the story. While Forsyth’s The Odessa File treated the subject as a straight fight between good and evil, Kerr is excellent at drawing out the ambiguities, where everyone is compromised, and the spectrum ranges from pitch black to flinty grey with not much in the way of purity. Virtue brings no reward at all.

The plotting is tight, with enough twists to keep you on your toes, but with sufficient foreshadowing that you don’t suddenly have credibility evaporate with a surprise coming out of nowhere. There are a few gumshoe cliches, this one by far the worst: “I would head to the Hofbrauhaus and spend the evening with a nice brunette. Several brunettes probably – the silent kind with nice creamy heads and not a hard luck story between them, all lined up along a bartop.” Other than that, horrible, exception, the writing is very good, and the book works both as genre fiction and beyond that.

Art in Montreal

There was a collection of sculptures by Alfred Laliberte, which were mostly fine (though I’m not much of a conneisseur of sculpture), but as usual, my eye was more drawn towards the comical – which in this instance was one entitled “Edouard Tasse fights the Devil”. No symbolism here, it was a straight punch up between the two of them. I’ve no idea who Tasse is or was, but he seemed to have Satan on the ropes, perhaps surprising given that Beezlebub has a bit of a reputation, but perhaps he’d had word to take a dive in the fifth round. Or maybe it was because Tasse’s right fist was almost as big as his head. I was also amused by the fact that the Devil had a cloak artfully arranged to cover his privates.

Possibly even funnier was a work by Frederick B Taylor which sought to warn the people of Quebec of the dangers of fascism by depicting a swastika in the sky. Not the most intrinsically hilarious of subjects, you might think, until you saw the date: 1942-1948(!). Given the urgency of the message, you might think Taylor might have upped his work rate (or else left it unfinished in 1945).

There was, of course, some great stuff there too. Rembrandt’s Portrait of a Young Woman and de Vlaminck’s Rueil près de Paris in particular. I also liked Valentin’s Abraham sacrificing Isaac though Abe doesn’t look too chuffed at being told he can spare his son, in fact he looks like he fully intends to slay the angel as well.

I’ve not been too complimentary about Canadian art, but I did like Dorian Fitzgerald’s, I guess neo-impressionist, Throne Room, Queluz Palace. I doubt it’s cool to admire contemporary representational art, but it’s very effective.

Then I went to the Contemporary Art Gallery and liked some more Canadian artists. The gallery is mainly devoted to temporary exhibitions, so it’s appeal is very much predicated on the quality of those. Fortunately for me, I liked both the Etienne Zack and Marcel Dzama shows. Dzama uses a limited number of motifs repeatedly (animals, guns, ballet dancers, soldiers, urophagia) but it’s very effective.

James Baldwin – If Beale Street Could Talk

If you ever are asked to illustrate the maxim about not judging a book from it’s cover, then I suggest this is a perfect example. The cover could be used for a Harlequin romance, and both front and back covers are plastered with quotations about what a wonderful love story it is.

I can only assume that this was a desperate attempt by the publishers not to frighten people off, this is not a love story, this is an angry book. It’s angry at the system, the white man, and those who substitute faith for decency. But if it is a polemic, it is no less effective as a work of fiction. The love story might not be the main theme of the book, but it is convincingly written, and the family relationships that form the emotional core of the book are superbly done. The prose snaps, the dialogue crackles (not sure if anything pops).

Last Days in Canada

The last couple of days I had in Montreal were pretty cool. I really liked the Plateau area. Downtown gives the impression of competing aspirations as to whether be a modern American city or a traditional European one and falls between the stools, this part of town feels individual to Montreal and is all the better for it. Square houses, with lots of bright colour and fancy windows and steps. It doesn’t come off in every case, but the overall effect is charming. Plus I had a flan on Avenue Laval (I assume Rue Quisling is round the corner) that was so good, it tasted like falling in love. Also in the area I saw a particularly Canadian sign, which read (in French) “this hill is our street, please don’t use it as a ski run”. Perhaps “Don’t take the piste” would be a more concise translation.

The French speaking thing in Montreal is a bit odd really. Although French is the main language in the city, pretty much everyone speaks English as well, and with lots of Anglophones at McGill and Concordia Universities as well as tourists and other interlopers it was difficult to know whether someone would speak to you in English or French. My French is OK if I’m ready for it, but when it’s sprung on me I tend to go blank. So, I spent a lot of the time there looking vacuous (or more son than usual).

I went to the Canadian Centre for Architecture too, which didn’t have much about architecture on public view (thankfully, as what it did have was way over my head), but did have a big collection of short films to watch on technology, transport and futuristic ideas. Best bits, a very funny public information film from about 1950 called Gentleman Jekyll and Driver Hyde which depicted the transformation of a decent, considerate guy to a rude, dangerous driver. Good to know that road rage is not a recent phenomenon. Also a documentary on the 1965 Tour de Saint-Laurent, including a bit where one of the two leading cyclists, obviously not used to being filmed, turned to look at the camera as it pulled up alongside him – whereupon the other rider took the opportunity to launch an attack and left him trailing behind. Best of all, some amazing film from the videos taken by the astronauts in the Apollo flights.

Overall, I had a good time in Canada. If it didn’t quite measure up to what I hoped for, it had lots of plus points too. Hopefully I’ll be back sometime.

Keeping it Montréal

On four days acquaintance with Montreal, I like it quite a lot, but I’m not sure exactly why. Some kind of intangible quality, more than the sum of its parts? I don’t know.

Firstly, the weather. It’s been between -5 and -15 most of the time I’ve been here, and honestly I’m loving it. Makes me feel fresh and alive and so on. Plus, no rain. It’s either sunny or snowing. And it’s great to be able to appreciate the beauty of the snow without feeling guilty that it’s going to be causing economic and social meltdown, as happens when more than an inch falls in the UK. Here, they can handle it. But when you’re walking around, with the wind whistling into your face, and your feet looking down to make sure that the ice/snow/slush underfoot isn’t too treacherous dangerous, it isn’t conducive to properly appreciating your surroundings. So, while I never pretend to definitiveness in my statements, what follows is even more based on snap judgements than usual!

Christ Church Cathedral

Architecturally, it’s all over the place. Some very nice buildings are scattered all over the place – the McGill campus around Parc Rutherford is lovely, as is Rue St Paul for instance, but there’s lots of plain buildings around too. There are weird juxtapositions like on Rue St Catherine where Christ Church Cathedral has a huge skyscraper right behind. If there aren’t many similar divergences of scale, there are plenty of style.

One common trait that I’m not keen on is buildings designed to look older than they are. These typically look pretty good from a distance, and bloody awful from up close.

Vieux Montreal has the highest concentration of prettiness and it is an agreeable neighbourhood to walk round in, but (and I’ve re-drafted this line multiple times in order to avoid sounding like some kind of eurosnob, and I just can’t do it) it wouldn’t be considered anything special in most of the great European cities.

Where Montreal does score big is with the Mont-Royal Park. I’ve gone on before about how much I think hills can add to a city’s attractiveness and Toronto suffers from only having man-made vantage points. By contrast, the hill that gives Montreal it’s name is not just a great view over the city, but like Montjuif in Barcelona or Arthur’s Seat in Edinburgh gives an easily accessible escape route from the city. 15 minutes from downtown, and I was walking for half an hour without seeing more than two people. Sure, it was a work day, out of season, but that’s still a great option. Snow-covered it looked gorgeous, but it’s also covered in trees so I’m sure it looks great all year round.

Croix du Mont Royal

The best vantage point over the city is from the Chateau on the hill. It’s all a nice building, as well as a welcome warm refuge, though it’s decorated with some heroically bad paintings illustrating the history of Montreal. The accompanying text says that the commission was a welcome one for artists struggling with the economic climate during the Great Depression. I have to say, I’d have been surprised if they were well off in any circumstances. Nearby the Chateau is a big metal cross, which actually looks great.

From the other side of the hill the view is even better, with the colossal basilica of the St Joseph Oratory (second in size only to St Peter’s in Rome) prominent.

One thing that is often said about Montreal compared to Toronto is that it is a more egalitarian, less money obsessed society. Obviously I’ve not been here long enough to form any sort of a view on that, but one thing that is noticeable is that in January in Montreal it’s very difficult to ostentatiously display your wealth. The cars are all covered with dirt from the snow, while most everyone walking has to wear a big coat and sturdy boots, while the latest fashionable haircut isn’t going to survive for long even if you do bravely choose to go without a hat. Now, even Pop Sociology 101 might hesitate to suggest that there might be some correllation between equality in appearance and equality in society, but I think there might be something in that.

Only other thing I’ve done really is to go to the Fine Arts Museum, but will keep that for a separate post.

En Route, Montreal

When my brother travelled across Canada, he managed to fall in love on the bus, as documented in the lovely Elodie (I’ll stick a link in here somepoint!) so I was alert to the possibilities of high romance on the road to Montreal. Unfortunately no-one caught my eye, so I had to look out of the window instead.

I think I decided that I wasn’t going to stay in Canada on the road to Niagara, an ugly highway decorated by strip malls, it just made me think that this is not how a country should be. By contrast, heading north there was more snow, more trees, the occasional frozen lake and it was all very scenic. Add a hill or two and it would have been beautiful.

Another example of the divided by a common language thing, we passed a sign for Tippers Family Campground. At least I assume it was, maybe the families are all having their picnics amongst burnt out cars and rusting fridges.

Got stuck for a while at Ottawa bus station waiting for my connection. Apparently someone had cleaned the engine, the water had then frozen and put the engine out of action. I guess public transport has problems the world over, but this seemed a properly Canadian reason. After we left Ottawa for Montreal it got dark so I couldn’t see any more of the scenery from there on. I’ll assume it was all lovely.

Got to Montreal and the hostel about 8ish and was soon drinking with some of the other guests there, culminating in heading out to Igloofest. I didn’t see much evidence of igloos, but there was some very impressive ice sculpture’s. But it was really just a big outdoor disco. Given the temperature was about -15, dancing to keep warm was pretty much compulsory, and having to wear about seven layers had the added benefit of masking my terrible dancing at least to a certain extent. It was a really good night, and today has been mainly recuperation. Looking forward to heading out tomorrow to see the city.