I got the chance to hang out with the girls on a Sunday, we ended up taking a walk to the Academie des Beaux-Artes, which is not far from Café Mozart. I have passed by it in a car but I didn’t realize it was so close. We took a little walk, me and 2 young women and 3 little girls. Nous faisions a promenade a l’Academie des Beaux-Artes ou les artes et sculptures restent ici. Even the walk was fun.
It was really nice, there were sculptures galore just as in Rodin’s garden in Paris. I took lots of pictures at both sculpture gardens, especially of the sculptures I really likes. “The Kiss” is one beautiful sculpture, so passionate, Rodin quite exquisitely captures two lovers clearly enamoured of each other in an embrace at the moment just before their lips touch. You can feel and sense the tension there. I quite enjoyed that and had more time on my own to reflect on the art. I’ll go back to Beaux-Artes and reflect, it was beautiful but sad also, at the same time there were concrete and stone sculptures of moms cradling babies (made me wistful), there were also sculptures of war and abuse, army men with guns one poking someone in the back in a menacing way, a man beating a woman. Tortured. The arts speaks for the artists who are Congolese who have been through something. It was beautiful and sad and I’ll go back another day on the weekend.
Walking along side the road I am struck by a gallery of another kind, for some strange reason I haven’t figured out the word for garbage, but the gallery of plastic bottles that are littering the landscape surrounds me and I am struck by it. I took pictures surreptitiously with my cellphone. The plastic bottle is the only piece of garbage that stands out among all other garbage because it refuses to be obliterated like the pieces of paper mercilessly crushed by passing vehicles and trampled by feet. The plastic bottle withstands all pressures and remains, flattened but intact, perhaps missing its lid but unbroken.
It was really nice, there were sculptures galore just as in Rodin’s garden in Paris. I took lots of pictures at both sculpture gardens, especially of the sculptures I really likes. “The Kiss” is one beautiful sculpture, so passionate, Rodin quite exquisitely captures two lovers clearly enamoured of each other in an embrace at the moment just before their lips touch. You can feel and sense the tension there. I quite enjoyed that and had more time on my own to reflect on the art. I’ll go back to Beaux-Artes and reflect, it was beautiful but sad also, at the same time there were concrete and stone sculptures of moms cradling babies (made me wistful), there were also sculptures of war and abuse, army men with guns one poking someone in the back in a menacing way, a man beating a woman. Tortured. The arts speaks for the artists who are Congolese who have been through something. It was beautiful and sad and I’ll go back another day on the weekend.
Walking along side the road I am struck by a gallery of another kind, for some strange reason I haven’t figured out the word for garbage, but the gallery of plastic bottles that are littering the landscape surrounds me and I am struck by it. I took pictures surreptitiously with my cellphone. The plastic bottle is the only piece of garbage that stands out among all other garbage because it refuses to be obliterated like the pieces of paper mercilessly crushed by passing vehicles and trampled by feet. The plastic bottle withstands all pressures and remains, flattened but intact, perhaps missing its lid but unbroken.
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