This afternoon I went to the Prado. Where there is, frankly, an overwhelming amount of art. But I did manage to claw my way through the crowds to see "Las Meninas" (above). Which was larger than I had expected. Silent contemplation was not an option, however.
Overall, I have to say that I prefer Goya to Velazquez. Though that picture of Saturn devouring his son is unabashedly creepy. Not included here, to avoid giving my readers nightmares, though I encourage you to search for it on the web, as it is a very powerful image.
Previous entries have established beyond doubt that I am a lousy writer about art. So I will close this entry here.
The Prado: it's the Louvre of Madrid. Well worth a bisit.
2 comments:
The plain people of Ireland: What do you mean "Meadowlands". We were expecting a post about Jimmy Hoffa, or The Sopranos o algo así.
Ah, an understandable confusion. I was not, however, referring to the industrial wasteland in New Jersey, the (urban) legendary resting place of Jimmy Hoffa. Instead, the reference was simply to the fact that "El Prado" means "the meadow" in Spanish.
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