national gallery and brit museum, larnaca

I am composing this in the hotel room in Larnaca, Cyprus. Its only 930 here and already my eyes are so tired that I fell asleep doing my assigned reading. I struggled through, but only just barely. This experience has already been an incredible whirlwind tour its crazy to imagine that I will actually be able to stay awake for the next 4 months.

Tuesday we went to the National Gallery in London. Suffering from a transatlantic flight, and lacking all sorts of sleep, we struggled to stay awake as we went through the art museum. But it was worth it. I focused mostly on the Renaissance stuff, because I knew that the Renaissance folks had a great deal of interest in the classics. I was surprised, however, at how many of the images I discovered I had studied in my Survey of Western Art class. It seemed like almost every room had something jump out at me, and I would stare in awe at those paintings and artists I had heard so much about. I saw the Arnolfini Portrait, Paolo Ucello’s Battle of San Roman, which is one of the first renaissance works to use perspective. I saw a really cool painting that was an imitation of a roman frieze, but with the addition of orange-yellow marble patterning in the background that looked almost like fire. The subject was the introduction of Cybele to the Romans, but I saw parallels to the paintings I like to do—my Nike adjusting her sandalstrap (still in progress) reflects this tendency. I saw a painting by Bottecelli who also painted the Birth of Venus, and actually recognized his work. The paintings were wonderful, and awe inspiring. I was Reubens, who did a version of the Judgement of Paris. I saw Velasquez and Picasso and Monet and Van Gogh. It was absolutely incredible. Even though I got really tired in some instances, just sitting and staring at these works was enough. And I didn’t even see the whole thing.

Dinner we ate at the restaurant, a buffet that we absolutely demolished. Then it was phone call to the parents, and sleep by 10. The walk to the National Gallery must have been a few miles, and we were all exhausted. Walking is something we will have to get used to on this trip.

Wednesday we woke up pretty late, and walked (a much shorter distance) to the British Museum, home to TONS AND TONS of Greek, Roman and Egyptian Antiquity. The most famous of these are the Elgin Marbles, sculptures taken from the Parthenon when Greece was still occupied by the Turks. Judging by the size of the pedimental sculptures, the actual Parthenon must be enormous. And the sculptures are absolutely breathtaking. One of my favorites is the one of the two lounging goddesses, I love the positions of rest and repose, as well as on the opposite pediment the sculpture of the river god Illisos (Illysos? I am not sure). The metope sculptures were amazing also, and HUGE.

The other ancient sites that we saw included a frieze from the Temple of Apollo at Bassae, and a small selection of sculptures from the Mausoleum, which was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Now, very little of it still exists, but what does, exists in the British Museum. We also saw a large collection of ancient Greek pottery, and some Egyptian stuff.

A lunch of Tapas broke up the day and a 5 pm when we left the museum my roommates for the hotel and a few other girls elected to do some walking around London. We were originally going to ride the tube, but when we discovered that each leg of the trip would cost 4 pounds, or around 8 dollars, we elected to walk. And walk we did. We started out going 2 blocks in the wrong direction, corrected ourselves, and took a meandering route about an hour down to the waterfront, past St Pauls Cathedral, and to the Tower. Both of these sights were very impressive. The Cathedral more for its sheer imposing height—the doorways dwarf the human proportions, and the Tower for its massive sturdyness and age. This tower was not messing around, it looked squat, solid and imposing. I have no problem believing that the English kept their prisoners here. It was also the place where Anne Boleyn was beheaded. I can only imagine how many ghosts must haunt the place. But none, except for a small red fox, bothered us as we gathered outside to take pictures.

On the way back we stopped at a Pub, ordered some treacle sponge (a distinctively Brit dessert), which was actually quite good, sipped a Mai Tai pitcher, and rested our legs from another VERY long walk. I think we probably walked 5 or 6 miles each way, because the walk took us at least an hour each direction. And then, with the prospect of waking up at 4:45 the next morning, we went to bed. Probably a little too late.

After too little sleep, it was on the plane again to Cyprus. The town of Larnaca is close to the coast, and is a maze of very tiny streets and narrow sidewalks. The shops have items that spill out of the doors and onto the road, and everything looks like it has been finished in stucco. At the center of the town, a little ways from our hotel, is the Church of St Lazarus, an originally eastern Basilica that has been converted many times into a mosque, a Catholic, and now into an Eastern Orthodox church.

The inside of the building is positively gilded, and the images of the saints with the gold disk halos around their heads are everywhere. Old Corinthian capitals from an earlier building are embedded in the walls, and the ceiling holds the remains of what used to be 3 huge domes. Later, the domes were destroyed and a spire erected instead; the church is a mishmash of architectural styles and time periods. We witnessed the end of a service there, which was sung in a sing-songy ancient Greek, which struck me as very similar to the way Catholic services are held. The bones of the saint are entombed there, and people stopped to kiss the box that held them on the way out. This feels about as far away from London as I can imagine. But it is only the beginning.