Height but no Depth

Thursday 17th August 2017

The next thing that happened was that Jonas Kauffman gave his Otello at the Garden. He wore his own jeans but was marvellous. Except he can’t be really frightening. But so supple and thoughtful instead. The lady was great as well. I was struck by how long the willow scene is – nearly 20 minutes, I should say, of just her. Incredible to enjoy the opera for itself, rather than the rich outer life of the opera. Forked massively for the seats and took Miss Belliver for her 80th birthday. Wore my Topman linen suit with short trews – didn’t get footwear right: had socks not sockettes with slip-ons. Glimpsed Simeon Bond also in the stalls who is easily £25 million. So I achieved the appearance of being on that level.

One house-keeping note for Poor Little Rich Gays booking the Rich Ladies Supper Tables in the Paul Hamlyn Hall for the interval – when it says ‘Any allergies’ on the advance online booking, don’t ignore. I chose a main course for Miss Belliver; it didn’t say it had cheese in it, which she doesn’t take. But when it came, lo and behold, cheese! V annoying.

So it was home with barely time for sleep before arrival at the Royal Academy the next morning for the Private Breakfast. I wore part of the Scottish trousseau. Great novelty – the brekker was given in the main gallery rather than the Reynolds Room as usual. All the great ladies present, including Aunt Lavinia, were discussing the buses in which they had gained the venue. What of the millions they were supposed to be giving the Academy? An exquisite elderly petal attached herself to us. She greatly admired some ghastly daubs of Venice, threw off the wrong artist’s name with great aplomb (I checked in the catalogue) but said the Legacy department had been simply marvellous. Aunt Lavinia and I escaped to a neighbouring room. But she followed. ‘That must be Tracey Emin,’ she said of something that couldn’t possibly have been. ‘I know her. Completely ghastly.’ We scuttled away again. ‘Just too many pictures; they ought to have narrowed it down.’ The lady was once again at our side. ‘Is this the African blanket?’ At least she had been partially listening to the curator’s talk. Suddenly she was animé and making a bee-line: ‘Oh do look. There’s that lovely lady who does the flowers.’ Elizabeth Blackadder. Aunt Lavinia and I did like some of things, as best we could. The Summer Exhib is always a trial because it’s so hard to know what to like without being told.

Summer Exhib: I have Many of This Artist's Work

Summer Exhib: I have Many of This Artist’s Work but This not my Fav

Cornelia Parker: Coffee Pot Suspended

Cornelia Parker: Coffee Pot Suspended: Better in Graph because you Can’t See Support

 

Aunt Lavinia and I Liked This

Aunt Lavinia and I Liked This

We Liked This Even More

We Liked This Even More: Broken and Smooth Like so Much of Life

Aunt Lavinia Loved This

Aunt Lavinia Loved This: Reminded her of the Puppet Performance of ‘Crow’ in Greenwich Which Caused a Member of the Audience to Have a Panic Attack in the Middle of It

Gorgeous Indian Work

Gorgeous Indian Work: So Many Doilies

More

Motor-Cyclists with Tinned Frame and No Faces

Brocade Ship

Ship: Pearl Over-Spill: ‘Those are Pearls that Were His Eyes.’ But I expect Artist Just Likes Pearls

 

Posted Thursday, August 17, 2017 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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