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January 29, 2000
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art and shopping It relaxes me to wander a store or a museum or gallery, with no particular mission, just filling one's head with images. Or to sit in a place and study strangers. We did a lot this day, so much it would be hard to remember without notes. We had breakfast in the hotel. (You notice it has remained nameless in this account. If you guess it, fine. If not, well, we can't expose the cake thief, you know.) The restaurant was very drafty and cold on this brisk day. We were seated at a two top on the banquette which made our perusal of the Houston Chronicle more difficult. We guessed they figured they were about to have a surge in business to make the four tops needed. A couple of guys came in and got a choice we hadn't been offered. Our waiter was obsequious in a way that was comical. "Oh, you will love that breakfast. It has a wonderful aroma even before it gets here." We had one of their breakfast offerings, some juice, coffee and Forrest had a bowl of berries. The coffee arrived in a pitcher and after the first cup you were supposed to pour your own. Personally, I hate that. It's hard to pour sitting down. Save it for Denny's. It had an oily taste anyway like someone needed to give the coffee machine and the metal pitchers a good scrubbing. (The room service coffee the night before had the same quality.) This $47 breakfast was stage one in being convinced that our reservation in this same restaurant for a pre-theater dinner would be cancelled. First stop of the day after getting our car brought around and grabbing coats and camera and maps was a place to get a good cup of coffee. A coffee shop/book shop on Westheimer suited fine. We sat and read and sipped and even took a turn around the shop which specializes in books for Gays and Lesbians as it is in the district in Houston that seems to be the 'gay area.' (This is so much harder to pin down in Austin that Dallas or Houston.) We took our time, no rush, watched people. Nice. Our next stop was the very industrial-looking Contemporary Arts Museum. The main thing going on there was an exhibit of Tony Oursler's work. We really enjoyed it. One of my favorite pieces was a simple cardboard skyline with some tin foil stars above it in a darkened room. The stars glimmered in a fascinating series of twinkles and colors. On inspection you saw that a TV provided the light show and the tape playing was a tape of channel surfing. When I looked there was a bit from a shopping channel, then Dallas. His more complex video and computer works and his great use of old clothes and fabric were neat, too, but I liked the simple statement of that piece. Onward then to the Menil Collection. This has caused a revision in my 'top reasons to get rich.' (Actually I just thought of making this list while touring this museum.) It's just a museum to house what this couple collected and it's free. Imagine collecting art and having your own museum. (Other reasons I thought of for the list, besides, 'build own museum' were 'build own old folks home for relatives' and 'don't work, just travel around and write this journal.' I didn't include 'buy any book I vaguely want' since, evidently, I already do this.) The Menil has a bunch of Magritte's, a Picasso, Warhols and modern African stuff as well as some four thousand year old pieces. Everything is nicely displayed. We had a great wander through it. Did I mention that it is free! Hey the Contemporary Arts Museum is free, too, but I didn't even see a donation box at this one. Our next goal was to find a boutique called 'Vanessa Riley London' which Amy had recommended. I'm normally suscipious of shopping at such a place with Forrest who might well decide I should buy something totally out of character for me. But Amy had convinced him that they might whip up something for him. What a find! Vanessa and her sister Veronica turned out to be great. Veronica was hustling out when we arrived and she dashed about taking orders from Vanessa about helping us with her coat on and purse over her shoulder. These great jackets intended for men did interest Forrest but in the end I bought one and they tailored it for me while we completed our dawdle around the area and I wore it to the theater. Their shop is great. They have a bunch of things on racks, but they essentially customize everything and the stuff on racks is just to give you an idea. But the gals themselves rock. This is way different than imagining yourself buying from Susan Dell's shop. I think I'll be back, but I'll not venture into their more daring ideas. That's not me. Museums and shopping are exhausting. We decided to have a late lunch, call and cancel our hotel dinner at 5:30 and pick up my jacket at that time instead. Vanessa and Veronica recommended Baba Yega and we set off to find it. We had a nice casual meal (man, we are eating too much on this trip!) and the place had a beautiful garden and a store with more herbs than Whole Foods. We then set off to wander through a gallery, a couple of antique shops, BookStop (in the old Alabama Theater). Finally, we wrapped back around to Vanessa's and got the jacket. A friend of Amy's, José, was there getting fitted with something to wear to a benefit. His parents were with him. They were all laughing because he had been thinking about the jacket that they had fitted for me! We kicked back in the hotel which shall remain nameless. A maid arrived for turn down. "Don't bother." "Chocolates?" "Nah." "Well, let me give you a TV guide." "Sure." I was reading Maeve Brennan's "The Rose Garden." Ended up logging on to bn.com and ordering some other books by her. She was contributor to Talk of the Town in The New Yorker for many years. We dressed and walked across the street to the Alley Theater. We saw some people from Austin in front of the hotel. Wit was fantastic. Oddly, I found the wordplay as interesting as the emotional exposé of cancer and its treatment and research vs. compassion. We walked around by a couple of loud bars and crowded restaurants after the play. There was a rail in front of one which, as we passed, a tall girl in a short dress stepped over, neatly revealing a trace of black panty looking like a model or someone in a movie. We finally picked an Italian restaurant which looked upscale but had tables. The food disappointed, but the view of the sidewalk was astounding. There must have been a movie being filmed which required hundreds of beautiful, slim, stylish women to hustle down the street with a few men in tow. Strange. We took ourselves to the room and a well-deserved sleep.
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"Plutôt souffrir
que mourir "To suffer
rather than die Jean de la Fontaine, Fables |
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contemporary art faces nature |
