Friday, June 10, 2022

Art, Politics & History

I may have set a personal step-count record on our last day in Edinburgh, under changeable skies:  29,599 steps, 104 floors, starting with the hike up Arthur's Seat.

Royal Mile (Cannongate Street)
After some gift shopping we had an hour to kill before our covid tests.

Cockburn Street
George Street
Princes Street
We did a quick walk-through of the Scottish National Gallery before  our 2 p.m. appointments.  Very impressive lighting.


Lots of beautifully hung Old Masters, including some with odd details.

"An Allegory of Melancholy" by Lucas Cranach ( 1528)
This one made me think of monkeypox even before I understood that I was at higher risk for the disease.

An Allegory (Fábula)" by El Greco ( ca 1590)
Canaletto certainly was extraordinarily skilled at capturing European cities.
"The Molo, Venice, looking West" by Antonio Canaletto (ca 1745)
"The Honourable Mrs Graham" by Thomas Gainsborough (1775-7)
An Edgar Allen Poe story about a sickly but beautiful woman with the same name inspired this painting.

"Berenice" by Henri Martin (1885)
I had hoped to see more Scottish artists.

"Geisha Girl" by George Henry (1894)
"The Shepherd Boy" by Phoebe Anna Traquair (1891)
"Saint Bride" by John Duncan (1913)
"Princes Street with the commencement of the building of the Royal Institution"
by Alexander Nasmyth (1825)
The iconic painting reminded me of how a woman I worked with at City Hall during the Bloomberg Administration described politics as "skating just above the surface of all the big issues."  Apparently, it also inspired the architect of the Scottish Parliament, too.

"Reverend Robert Walker Skating on Duddingston Loch"
by Sir Henry Raeburn (ca 1795)
We tested negative for covid by the time we arrived for our 3:30 tour of Enric Miralles's building which is intended to evoke both the Scottish landscape and political transparency. It definitely falls into the love-it-or-hate-it category.


Sunlight filled the glorious Debating Chamber.


Although the tour was informative, we didn't get to see much other than the Debating Chamber.

These may look like liquor bottles, but they're intended to remind members of parliament of the people they serve.  The Hall itself is directly above the public area, another political metaphor.


Apparently the Scottish government takes Pride seriously.  Our guide wore a rainbow lanyard and this poster in the lobby declares that "we put equality at the heart of everything we do."


Although many of the design motifs are subtle and abstract, the Cannongate Wall, which surrounds the complex, is quite literal.  The view of Old Town from the architect's window at the Balmoral Hotel is engraved and the rocks are indigenous.




This one comes from the pen of Walter Scott:  When we had a king, and a chancellor, and parliament-men o' our ain, we could aye peeble them wi' stanes when they werena gude bairns - But naebody's nails can reach the length o' Lunnon.  No wonder I never read the guy!


These barriers allude to Rennie Mackintosh, who's also quoted on the wall, to much better effect IMHO:  There is hope in honest error; None in the icy perfections of the mere stylist.


And here's the design element that specifically alludes to the Skating Minister, the painting above. Members of parliament have what the architect intended as "contemplation spaces" behind each one of these decorated windows.


It's a good thing I brought my new plaid umbrella.  The skies opened before we got to our final activity of the trip.


I had booked a Pride tour of the Real Mary King's Close without knowing what to expect. Our guide's enthusiasm compensated for the shallowness of the gimmick, which shoehorned some of Edinburgh's LGBT history (guess what? there isn't much!) into an underground look at the city's appalling living conditions during the 17th and 18th centuries.

 

The  skies had completely cleared by the time we emerged from the bowels of Mary King's Close.  We grabbed a quick bite and went back to the hotel to pack.



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