My older sister Laura came to visit last week! She arrived Saturday morning in skinny jeans and a black turtleneck sweater... I immediately missed NY. We swapped stories and updates, and although there was lots to catch up on, the biggest surprise of all was her new found vegetarianism/pescatarianism. Quite the surprise. I would have to adapt accordingly...
Veggie Delight Day 1:
Our first stop was my favorite coffee shop, The Bean Scene, where we had cucumbers and hummus. I adjusted comfortably. But the next stop was Three Sisters, a huge outdoor bar with a giant screen to watch the three upcoming Rugby matches. Of course greasy burgers go hand in hand with such an event, but she refused the delectable meat... and it was suddenly all very serious... she was refusing a burger at a sports match. We stayed for the first two matches, but since we couldn't share the delicious mouth-watering patty, we set off to find something she could eat. We ended up at the classic Edinburgh tavern, The Last Drop, to watch the final game over... a salad. It's in the grassmarket area, which was used for public hangings. I wonder if anyone was ever hanged for refusing a greasy burger? We sat down with a table of 15 married Frenchmen in kilts, very odd... very entertaining. .
Veggie Delight Day 2:
We woke up and headed for the hills! Arthur's seat. We barely made it to the top without being blown away. After the wind-blown journey, we had a fantastic view of the city. We ventured down quickly and carefully and headed to another classic Edinburgh Tavern, The Sheep Heid Inn, said to be the oldest pub in all of Scotland, dating as far back as 1360. Laura had vegetarian haggis. Whatever. The Inn was beautiful. Old books and posters lining the walls. Huge beaten up leather chairs and mismatched wooden tables. The best part by far was the Skittles alley, a bowling alley... but this was no ordinary bowling alley... this was one reminiscent of 1360... Two guys crouched in the back and replaced the pins with every turn. AMAZING!
We ventured down to Princes Street, the man shopping area, and walked around. The rain deterred us from our meandering, so we got on a 'The Majestic Bustour' to the botanical gardens and the Royal Yacht Britannia. We ended up sitting in massage chairs in Ocean Terminal for 20 minutes instead. Oh, I love Laura. The night ended with Nachos (vegetarian chili, obviously) at Elephant House. Another great day.
Veggie Delight Day 3:
I had class in the morning, but met up with the vegetarian after. We walked around and headed to Rose Street, a famous street lined with ancient taverns and pubs with names like, Auld Hundred, Dirty Dicks Bar, Filthy McNasty's, Hogshead... feeling a bit intimidated, we settled on The Kenilworth, a charming (safely named) pub built in 1900. We drank dark Edinburgh Ales until finner time. We met Lizzie at Mussel Inn, our favorite seafood restaurant. We ordered Kilos of Mussels and a delicious seafood platter. Thank goodness she hasn't sworn off fish yet. We topped the night off with homemade lemon crepe at Lizzie's... while watching Step up 2. We replayed the heart-pump at least five times. So very good.
Veggie Delight Day 4:
After class, Vegetarian and I met up at another one of my favorite coffee shops, Black Medicine. We strolled around and decided to head to Leith for a seafood dinner. I still haven't mastered the bus system properly, so of course after 3o minutes in the wrong direction, we turned around and headed to the waterfront. oops. We went to Fisher's Bistro, the most famous seafood restaurant in Edinburgh, and got the last available Lobster. So good. Laura ravaged the thing. After dinner we went to Jazz Bar to listen to some Scottish Jazz Musicians over tea... yes, we drank tea at a bar... yes, the bartender thought we were joking.
It was a fantastic trip and seeing Laura was the best belated birthday present I could ask for. And yes... I can't eat seafood for a week. Yes, I had a burger after she left.
More to come,
A
Thursday, 26 March 2009
Thursday, 19 March 2009
On a scale from 1-10, how old am I?
My sincerest apologies for leaving you all without adventures for so long. Unfortunately, I haven't done any traveling since Dublin, but on the upside, Edinburgh and I are doing very well and have gotten quite close over these absent weeks of mine. I have three papers due next week, so to avoid my usual crunch-time last-minute all-nighter tendencies, I've been working on them for the past three weeks now and to my surprise (trust me i'm really surprised), its working out pretty well. In New York I am so concerned with all my other commitments that my academic obligations sometimes get the backseat, meaning staying up all night before a paper is due is always my solution to not enough days in a week. It always worked for me because its all I knew. But now that I have spent a day just hanging out in an Edinburgh cafe with a pile of books and too many jstor print outs, my work ethic has changed for the better... again to my surprise.
The first essay I wrote is for my British Art History class, which spans from the middle of the 18th century to the end of the 19th century, so the hallmark of that time period is the founding of the Royal Academy and the infamous exhibitions it held. I decided to focus on two exhibitions which mark the introduction of genre painting to the art scene. Genre painting is the depiction of everyday life, which was considered vulgar and lowly in comparison to the grand portraits and history paintings which inundated the walls of the Academy. The exhibition of 1806 is when David Wilkie, a Scotsman, made his debut with a work entitled Village Politicians. It was surprisingly the blockbuster of the summer and elevated genre to an entirely new level. I then progressed into the exhibition of 1826, when Wilkie exhibited another genre scene entitled Chelsea Pensioners, which received such praise that the Academy had to place a divider between the work and the spectators, a first for the Academy. I used Genre painting as the means through which the state of British painting can be seen and defined; it demanded spectators to look long and hard at work as opposed to being able to glance at a piece and move onto the next. Additionally, because of the subject matter, it challenged spectators to feel something... feel sentimental towards the people in the image who went about their daily tasks completely unaware of the larger world around them... something forgotten to the hordes of Academy goers who cued for hours to visit the vogue exhibitions of the time.
My next essay is for my Velazquez in Context class, a class devote entirely to Velazquez and the court in which he painted. I've decided to write my final paper on the influence he had on 19Th century artists, like Manet and Whistler. I introduced my paper with the appreciation the French and Americans had for Velazquez's individuality and independence, something enviable to a rapidly changing and modernizing country. He painted with such liberty and with such bold strokes, that artists would go and stand before his work for hours trying to copy his style. Both 19th century artists, Manet and Whistler, made almost hundreds of copies combined, some just fractures of larger works and some entire reproductions of even Las Meninas, Velazquez's greatest masterpiece. Apparently Manet and Degas met for the first time while standing in front of the Infanta Margharita... I kinda like that visual.
And my last paper is for my Sinners, Saints, and Seers class, a survey of Scottish, Irish and English art from 600 to 900. I am focusing on the few depictions of women in art of this region and time, all of which are either depiction of the Virgin with child or Adam and Eve. The essay is largely centered around the idea that woman was never to be represented alone and was always accompanied by a domineering male figure, either the Christ child or Adam. If she does appear alone it is either as temptress or damned soul i.e. a prostitute, unmarried woman, or barren. I am using Irish High crosses, illuminated manuscripts, and small metal and stonework sculptures as evidence.
The preparation for these essays and the process of writing them has really brought me closer to this city and made me a real Edinburgher... (not a word). I have my coffee spots that I go to and the waiter who refills my coffee without charging. I've taken books out from three different libraries, the Art and Architecture library, the Main University Library, and the National Library. I've even sent emails to scholars... no reply yet, but the beauty of this whole working ahead thing is that I have a whole other week to wait and see.
On my 21st birthday/St. Patrick's day, I sneaked (did you know snuck isn't a real word?) into the Bean Scene, free wireless with every purchase, to finish up my conclusion to my Velazquez paper before my celebration with friends.
God I felt old. Apparently the whole evening I kept asking people, "On a scale from 1-10, how old am I?"... must have been prompted by this whole new work thing. Gotta be careful.
More to come.
A
The first essay I wrote is for my British Art History class, which spans from the middle of the 18th century to the end of the 19th century, so the hallmark of that time period is the founding of the Royal Academy and the infamous exhibitions it held. I decided to focus on two exhibitions which mark the introduction of genre painting to the art scene. Genre painting is the depiction of everyday life, which was considered vulgar and lowly in comparison to the grand portraits and history paintings which inundated the walls of the Academy. The exhibition of 1806 is when David Wilkie, a Scotsman, made his debut with a work entitled Village Politicians. It was surprisingly the blockbuster of the summer and elevated genre to an entirely new level. I then progressed into the exhibition of 1826, when Wilkie exhibited another genre scene entitled Chelsea Pensioners, which received such praise that the Academy had to place a divider between the work and the spectators, a first for the Academy. I used Genre painting as the means through which the state of British painting can be seen and defined; it demanded spectators to look long and hard at work as opposed to being able to glance at a piece and move onto the next. Additionally, because of the subject matter, it challenged spectators to feel something... feel sentimental towards the people in the image who went about their daily tasks completely unaware of the larger world around them... something forgotten to the hordes of Academy goers who cued for hours to visit the vogue exhibitions of the time.
My next essay is for my Velazquez in Context class, a class devote entirely to Velazquez and the court in which he painted. I've decided to write my final paper on the influence he had on 19Th century artists, like Manet and Whistler. I introduced my paper with the appreciation the French and Americans had for Velazquez's individuality and independence, something enviable to a rapidly changing and modernizing country. He painted with such liberty and with such bold strokes, that artists would go and stand before his work for hours trying to copy his style. Both 19th century artists, Manet and Whistler, made almost hundreds of copies combined, some just fractures of larger works and some entire reproductions of even Las Meninas, Velazquez's greatest masterpiece. Apparently Manet and Degas met for the first time while standing in front of the Infanta Margharita... I kinda like that visual.
And my last paper is for my Sinners, Saints, and Seers class, a survey of Scottish, Irish and English art from 600 to 900. I am focusing on the few depictions of women in art of this region and time, all of which are either depiction of the Virgin with child or Adam and Eve. The essay is largely centered around the idea that woman was never to be represented alone and was always accompanied by a domineering male figure, either the Christ child or Adam. If she does appear alone it is either as temptress or damned soul i.e. a prostitute, unmarried woman, or barren. I am using Irish High crosses, illuminated manuscripts, and small metal and stonework sculptures as evidence.The preparation for these essays and the process of writing them has really brought me closer to this city and made me a real Edinburgher... (not a word). I have my coffee spots that I go to and the waiter who refills my coffee without charging. I've taken books out from three different libraries, the Art and Architecture library, the Main University Library, and the National Library. I've even sent emails to scholars... no reply yet, but the beauty of this whole working ahead thing is that I have a whole other week to wait and see.
On my 21st birthday/St. Patrick's day, I sneaked (did you know snuck isn't a real word?) into the Bean Scene, free wireless with every purchase, to finish up my conclusion to my Velazquez paper before my celebration with friends.
God I felt old. Apparently the whole evening I kept asking people, "On a scale from 1-10, how old am I?"... must have been prompted by this whole new work thing. Gotta be careful.
More to come.
A
Monday, 2 March 2009
Loose Petticoats, Loose Morals: A Weekend in Dublin
Green isn't even the national color... It's Dublin Blue! Just one of the many things I learned while visiting the city this past weekend. The other fun fact was the placement of mirrors under tables at the Dublin castle. It first seemed a bit naughty, but its purpose was so women could always see the trim of their dresses and readjust any layers to prevent petticoats from peaking through. "Loose Petticoats, Loose Morals." A lesson never to be forgotten. I've adopted it as a way of life.I expected Dublin to be similar to Edinburgh, but other than the omnipotence of drinking and the presence of potatoes in every dish, the cities are surprisingly different. The largest difference grounded in the architecture and city layout: Edinburgh has a kind of center and all roads lead to or depart from that point. Dublin seems more lateral and divided by one main river that runs through the entire city. Apparently one side is grimy, the other charming. I found both sides pretty wonderful.
First stop was Guinness Storehouse. The best part was the free pint served at the Sky Bar at the very top of the building with a 360 degree view of Dublin. It's definitely an acquired taste, but in the spirit of "the now" I swallowed the murky brown liquid with no complaint.After Guinness, it was off to the Jameson Distillery. My sanity muddled by the effects of the murky brown liquid, I volunteered to be a taster at the end of the tour, which required me to consume three shots of whiskey: American, Scottish, and Irish. I was surrounded by propaganda insisting that American was the worst, Scottish the second worst, and Irish obviously the cleanest, purest, easiest, and tastiest. We were then asked to vote for our favorite and realizing I was surrounded by Irishmen and old muskets above the bar, I succumbed and agreed with the propaganda. I was well awarded for my choice: an official whiskey taster certificate and of course another shot of Whiskey. I wobbled out of Jameson.
We stopped at an unsuspecting bar called O'Neils (there are about 700) to have some baked ham, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, turnips, and cabbage all covered in gravy (Jameson makes you hungry). Clue #1: The bar was filling up with men in jerseys. Clue #2: A giant screen was lowered. Clue #3: We were the only two girls in the bar. Only once clue #3 struck did we realize an imperative rugby match was about to commence. France Vs. Wales. Anyone who tells you to go to Ireland for St. Patrick's Day has never been there for a Rugby match. Ireland wasn't even playing, but based on the enthusiasm and endless empty pints, they might have well been. I'm just going to risk a reputation as an Expat and say it's better than the Superbowl. Ireland was due to play England the next day. You can imagine our excitement.
The Ireland Vs. England match was to start at 5:30pm, meaning we had to be dressed in full garb and claim a spot in a pub around noon. I had a conflict though. I was on a mission to see the Book of Kells, an old illuminated manuscript dated to about 800, so on our way to our choice of pub, we stopped at Trinity college to get a peak at the manuscript before our 12:00pm appointment at PorterHouse Pub. I stood in front of this sacred text in full Irish Rugby gear.Ireland won. Just imagine it. Okay... now multiply that by 100. Then by 1000. That's about how exciting it was.
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