I hae been home nearly four weeks, which is nearly as long as I was away. But still many things are fresh in my mind. Some memories have probably already faded a little and some a little altered. I think the beautiful thing is that even though I might forget the facts and particulars, I will remember the impressions and emotions experienced. Some people have been pretty excited to hear how my travels went, though I suspect some have already followed along on social media and pretty much know most of it. Popular questions include, "What was your favourite thing?" or "What was your favourite city?". I think these questions are hard to answer, as I have a couple of favourite cities, but maybe because of the experiences that I had there, because of the sun shining or the people I met. Also, trying to answer just one favourite thing is hard, because there were so many excellent things.
One of my friends asked me this tonight, and I protested that one thing was too difficult (like choosing a favourite child, not that I actually know anything about this, but I assume perhaps like asking a parent that??). So she granted me "Top 5". And I thought for a while, and couldn't decide on the 'top five' favourite places as such, but came up with a Top 5 things I thought were really excellent that come to mind strongly.
In no particular order, and with stories (because I like stories):
1. I loved how history was so present
Not that it isn't in other places, like my own home country. But the idea that I went to visit a palace that was owned by the emperor, whose family ruled for six hundred years?! European settlement in Australia isn't that old!! And to hear how the different wars across the continent affected different countries differently, or to hear about the same war in two different countries with different perspectives. And that history is not just something from hundreds of years ago. I forget that the Berlin Wall fell during my lifetime. And that people of my generation, and people alive today were directly affected (or have family) who lived through this time, a time that, somehow in my mind, I had put into a glass jar and put in on the shelf as an artefact from a long time ago. But no, one can see parts of the wall that have been preserved, and go past it on their way to work, as a reminder that this struggle is from a time not that long ago.
And that I stood in buildings from the medieval times; wow.
2. Going to concerts
For a long time, definitely through uni, there was this assumption that in order to get really awesome at music, one has to go overseas to Europe to get good. And I will not dispute that there are lots of amazing schools, concerts and teachers in Europe, and that there are so many. In fact, in most cities, there was something going on every night - strikingly, in particular, during the week, not just the weekend. But this doesn't mean that Australia is rubbish; on the contrary, I appreciate much more the value of the way we work and how we approach things in a refreshing and innovative manner. I think this is partially a result of having this 'cultural hangup' as described in the first sentence above, that we as Australians sometimes feel like we have something to prove. That, and also because we don't have a long-standing tradition of "That's how it was done back then/when Brahms did it/because we've done it for hundreds of years like this", and the necessity for Australian artists to be versatile and open. This I really loved.
And I went to see some really excellent concerts: the recital by Jeremy Denk, hearing the Berlin Philharmonic and Concertgebouw in their home venues, going to Wigmore Hall....
But I also didn't enjoy some of it either: I didn't enjoy some of the programming of the aforementioned world-famous orchestras (even though they played most excellently!!), and a production of Don Giovanni that I thought was a bit tacky and also fairly unpolished (disappointing because I was looking forward to seeing an opera in the theatre that it was premiered at).
So this was exciting musically, and also quite eye (ear?)-opening.
3. Hearing the languages
It was really wonderful to tune my ears to hearing languages other than English being spoken widely. And even trying to pick accents. It often took a day or so to start understanding some of the sounds - and some with greater success than others. I was, and probably still, remain convinced that I would love to learn German because I think it's a beautiful language (and I'm not talking about the gutteral, or throaty sounds that people scoff at, nor the stacks of consonants, but for the fact that it makes sense - I think! - and can be extremely poetic and evocative). I am a bit hesitant about French only because the French people have a bad reputation for being snobbish about their language, but I will be the first to admit that it's really quite beautiful, and I was sad to leave Paris after attuning my ears to their language, and a little bit shocked and pleased to hear it again in Brussels. I think Czech is difficult and full of sounds I don't even know. And that Dutch sounds like an Irish person trying to speak German. I don't think I sound, or even am, that Australian when at home but when I was travelling, it was quite apparent to me that I am a little bit! And upon returning, it is quite a shock to hear loud conversations of topics I have no wish to hear, and sometimes with such foul language, and exacerbated by broad Australian accents. I don't think I experienced such extroverted conversations on public transport while travelling, but perhaps there were and they were all in foreign languages that sounded beautiful.....even if they were swearing...
To be honest, I probably did alter my accent ever so slightly in order to be better understood....which probably came out a tiny little bit British at times...
4. Figuring out which art I like
I went to a lot of galleries; I've seen quite a lot of art (and also more if you include the galleries I've been to at home, right?). One of the most striking moments in a gallery happened when I was at the Rodin Museum in Paris; I went on a recommendation of a friend, and decided that it was pretty close to where I was going to be that day, so I'd pop in. I was also pretty keen to see The Thinker. I discovered in that few hours that I love sculpture. I find it amazing that a hard material such as marble or stone might be able to convey movement, softness and the like - properties that a hard material inherently doesn't have. Talking to a friend, she also expressed a same love of sculpture, and made the point that sculpture is created by the removal of material to reveal the product. The precision required for this is extraordinary, as is the imagination to conceive of what is inside the block. I also discovered that if I don't see another still life again, this is alright with me. These facts were quite helpful when tackling larger museums later, as I did not always have the time to see everything - so it was useful to slowly discover what art I would derive enjoyment from and to be able to skip the things I was not so interested in, with little guilt. At the newly-refurbished Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, there was a sort of alternative curatorship called 'Art is Therapy' by Alain de Botton and John Armstrong.
"The museum tour is normally presented as a chnace to learn about art. This tour has a different purpose: it wants to use the art here to make life slightly less painful for you. This is a chance to think of art's therapeutic dimension. The central actor in this tour is not the art, but you: your hopes, your disappointments, your pains and your longings - to which art has specific and sometimes useful things to say."
Alongside a number of works on display, there appeared large yellow post-it notes-like squares that asked questions about the relevance of the artwork and its meaning to today's life. It talks of human vices and thought-provoking snippets. One in particular was particularly striking: it talked of how on the other wall there was a very famous Dutch painting, probably with three rows of people in front of it, jostling to get a view. It made the point that an artwork's fame can be extremely unhelpful because in order to touch us, art has to elicit a personal response, which is often overshadowed by its distinction. Another sign clearly affirmed that just because an artwork is famous doesn't mean one has to like it; this gives me reassurance that I don't have to like certain things just because many people declare it to be great, but another piece might be something that I love for other reasons.
(I regret not buying this book while I was there, and am figuring out a way to get it to Australia for hopefully not an exorbitant price!)
5. Making connections
One of my hopes for my travels was to make connections - and I mean in terms of putting things in context. I learnt about history (I think I did mention this in part 1?) and as mentioned above, it was cool to hear about the same wars from multiple perspectives. One excellent moment in making connections I recall with great clarity: a reconstruction of the Babylonian Ishtar Gate stands in the Pergamonmuseum. It is an exquisite blue, with different designs, including a frieze of golden lions. It is probably the most ambitious reconstruction to be undertaken within a museum and a very impressive one at that. Imagine my surprise and excitement when, at the British Museum, I saw a panel with an exquisite blue and a golden lion, and remarked to myself, "I know what that is!!".
Another connection has come up in the past week: I'm doing a workshop this weekend of Australian choral music at the State Library of Victoria. In my correspondence with the lady there, her email footer advertises a free exhibition - Rome: Piranesi's Vision. "But I've read that name before....."I thought to myself. Indeed I have. There was a temporary exhibition of some of Piranesi's prints at the Sir John Soane Museum in London; Soane was a huge Piranesi fan and owned some prints. And there's this exhibition of Piranesi's work in Melbourne.....crazy cool.
Incidentally, when I turned up for work today, I met this woman (after corresponding via email for the last few days). I had asked her via email whether it was indeed the same man (affirmative) and had expressed my enthusiasm to see this exhibition. And she gave me a gift - of the book accompanying the exhibition. It was an extremely kind gesture. She said she wanted to give it to me because I was so enthusiastic and excited about it. Wow :)
Of course, I could list so many excellent things. I really really loved meeting up with my friends who now live overseas (or will be soon). I think in total, I saw just under twenty of them (even though some meetings were brief). Some are very good friends, some are not so close - but it was wonderful to see each of them! I also loved the random conversations I had with strangers/fellow travellers/local people (select appropriate category). Highlights include:
* the German woman who tried to help me with directions, though she spoke little English, and I little German (lots of gesturing ensued)
* the Australian man on the train to Prague who asked tentatively if I spoke English ("Oh, thank goodness, you do too...and you have an Australian accent!" or something like that)
* the Belgian man who was willing to show me his city and answer all my questions (and also his lovely friends too)
* the Prague tourist information lady who was helpful and wanted to know all about Australia (and monotremes)
* my Austrian host who answered my many questions and explained so much about Austria (and gave me some good tips too!)
* the American guy who had been travelling for eighteen months who offered to take my photo for me in Prague, and told me he was trying to get Lithuanian citizenship and wanted to settle in Kuala Lumpur
* the Dutch family who would have invited me to come stay with them if I had been going near to their hometown
* the Spanish couple living in Rotterdam who invited me to come stay if I was going there
* the guy on the overnight train who helped me put my suitcase at the top; in fact, all the super helpful people who helped carry my suitcase up and down stairs, and put my suitcase on racks. So many kind helpful people!
* the American woman who sat down randomly next to me who turns out went to the same little school in CT that I went on exchange to (cool story!)
* the German housemate of my friend who picked me up and talked to me for ages, and suggested we go for a nighttime wander to look at the city and the trains
...among many cute little exchanges....
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