Sunday, July 13, 2008

Monkey Business

On my wall there is an empty space.

The Three Monkeys (painted after this photograph) have a new home. We went to celebrate by going to watch Obludarium, a pleasure inflicted upon us by remote control by S3, thank you. The amazing Forman Brothers are camped by the river Scheldt for the Zomer van Antwerpen festival for the the lucky inhabitants of the city who managed to secure tickets for one of the 40 sold-out shows.

I don’t want to give too much away of this Fellini-esque extravaganza of sheer mastery which breathes everything of a past time yet brings it so into the present with humor and absurdity. There was a bearded lady, a flopping mermaid, a rotating floor, a giant puppet show, a woman in a tutu on a horse with a loud cracking whip, and, most fittingly, a set of three “Czech Big Heads’ who came in from the mountains, and wouldn’t keep still, kept dithering off or looking up at the onlookers in amazement. I could watch it a thousand times. Their movements were so hilarious and subtle. One of them looked like Deirdre, the librarian person that I often play to you, S3. We laughed ourselves to pieces upstairs as we sat there like royalty sipping from a bottle of cava surveying the tumbling scene.

They imitate freaks, and by doing so, become freaks. Something to think about. So lucky Antwerpians are to have them visit these shores.

Outside sparks flew: the blacksmith hammering away. If you gave him a kiss you received the prize. I got it; the first nail to my coffin, or my boat, whichever (maybe both?); I even got two, I keep looking at them on my desk; I am not quite sure what to do with this two-some.

On our way back, as I was dropping off home my gracious benefactor, I took a wrong turning, and there, the theatre continued: three drunks in a row, holding each other up, arm in arm, standing up and collapsing by turns, and wandering in and out of the headlights. The monkeys have a suitable home.

Much to do now: I think I can start building my boat.
Love to you both! Safe travels!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Lina�s lyrics in praise of Kate

There is lyrical jazz, and there is lyrical prose, and, in fact, lyrical painting. And Katie is a master of them all. She is lyrical Kate. Katie, the lyrical girl.