I wish I’d seen the BBC1 Imagine program – Georgia O’Keeffe by Myself – before I went to the Tate exhibition. From the poster I had expected to see lots of her flower paintings which I’ve always liked, but there were only two and though I very much liked New York Street with Moon, her Lake George paintings and her paintings of skulls and bones, the exhibition lacked the coherence of the TV program. The exhibition seemed bitty to me, but having watched the program and seen how her art evolved, I appreciate her non-flower works much more. It would be good to visit the exhibition again but there are so many good things to see in London just now, I am unlikely to make it.
The other works on the same floor were by the Indian painter Bhupen Khakhar. Josh and I both particularly loved the deep blues and greens of the paintings in the first room. A sad man, plagued by living in a world where his sexuality was forbidden, much of his work is related to his homosexuality. Rich vibrant colours and often moving, I much preferred it to the Georgia O’Keeffe, with the caveat that if I had time to go back I might well revise my opinion of the exhibition of her work.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, we were too tired after visiting both exhibitions in one morning to tour the new Modern Art Wing of Tate Modern. Another day.
We’ve had Mallard ducks on our 9th floor balcony and a peregrine and we can hear the blackbirds singing from their nest above us. Once a pair of ducks nested on the roof opposite and raised a family of ducklings there.
Now a small bird has made a nest in our courtyard and laid five eggs. It seems amazing. The new gardeners only replanted the window box quite recently.
I caught a glimpse of a little brown bird flying away as I walked past but I’m not sure what type it was.
A neighbour said it was a robin, but surely they have blue eggs?
When Amelia, our daughter-in-law, came to dinner she brought a bouquet of these huge white lilies. Their perfume filled our flat but I worried about the mess I knew their rich golden-brown pollen would make. Luckily our younger daughter Jane had come over to examine a PhD and had read that the answer is to remove the stamens as these magnificent blooms open. Works a treat though the pistils look a bit weird on their own surrounded by beheaded stamens.