I was suffering from a blogging and reading hangover, but a shower refreshed me and we prepared to be out for the day. I asked the lady on reception, who spoke English, although Keith hadn´t noticed and always spoke to her in Spanish, if the wifi would be on during the night. I needed some advice from Australia, from a currently sleeping man who would be up and about when I was in bed. She agreed to ask her sister to leave it on just for me.
As we dashed past the cathedral, we noticed that the number of horses and carriages had doubled, and the striking of hooves on cobblestones told us that many were already hired. Perhaps it was the misty rain or perhaps it was a Sunday tradition. We returned to the Fine Arts Gallery, but stopped to eat some bread and cheese while we browsed the artworks in the painters´ market in the square outside. There were many styles and standards, and although we both found ones that we liked, we were not in a position to buy and care for paintings.
An understanding gallery attendant allowed us to use our tickets from yesterday. Keith was doing a great job with his Spanish, putting our pocket dictionary to good use. I could read a bit and sometimes understand, but I would need a refresher on the grammar to be able to speak. The interesting thing was that people talking to us usually talked more to me, even though I was the least likely to understand and often had no idea. A couple of people in shops enjoyed satisfying brief conversations with me in which I didn´t say anything at all. Most peculiar.
It takes longer to visit a gallery with low language skills, but we pooled our abilities and were able to work out a lot of information signs. Keith took photos of some to work on later. 'Later' is a time that has not arrived so far on our journey for any other photos of involved information, so presumably he means during his retirement. We had the most wonderful visit, continuing our exploration of art in terms of communication with an agenda, and marvelling at the artists' technical skills and ability to ´see´ a scene in their imaginations. The visit of St Bruno to Pope Urbano II by Francisco de Zurbaran was an interesting allegory of the silence and humility of the saint. The Pope sitting slightly higher up and shown as a more worldly person by his room and demeanour, is having a meeting with Bruno, who is not speaking, being committed to silence and humility. At the time Bruno had been in Rome to further his clerical career, but there had been issues within the Catholic Church and Bruno had chosen to leave, and to start his own order of Santa Maria of the Tower. His order was based on penitence, perpetual silence and austerity. The meeting in the painting did not actually take place in the 11th Century, but after canonisation of St Bruno in the 17th Century, it provided an allegory for saintly versus worldly behaviour.
Another very powerful painting, by Eduardo Cano, showed the Catholic monarchs, Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand, receiving freed Christian prisoners held by Muslims, at the conquest of Málaga in the 15th Century. It was painted in 1867, and we wondered whether that had just been a painter´s choice of a dramatic historic scene, or whether there was a purpose in such a painting at that time. Other paintings showed, within the same canvas, parts of a story that occurred in the past and would occur in the future.
Penitence, humility and flagellation were major themes in religious paintings, with whole rooms being devoted to various saints and their practices. We became quite fond of St Jerome, who was depicted by just about everyone, in just about every stage of his life from his dissipated youth, to his visions, to farewelling his astounded and grieving family when he gave up wealth and entered a monastery, to more visions of temptations and angels assisting him to overcome them and on and on.
My favourite painting was by Antonio Ma Esquivar of Joseph and Potifer´s wife, in which poor Joseph is refusing the advances of the wife. Later he is accused by her of rape, and he loses his position of slave in charge of the household and is cast out. It was painted in 1854. There was certainly plenty of scope for all sorts of paintings under the name of religious theme.
There were some fine portraits from the 18th and 19th Centuries, such as the one by Bernardo Lorente German of Prince Philipof Spain, and Goya's Canon D. Jose Duaso.
We rather missed the challenges of the complex religious paintings, and with little information, we could not even make entertaining interpretations ourselves. We moved gradually into more modern times, with landscapes and everyday scenes being depicted. Jose Arpa´s Prickly Pears in Flower was beautifully painted but amused us in the simplicity of the subject, and we could only think that the hidden agenda was to make the viewer appreciate the Prickly Pear.
It was quite late by the time we had finished and reached our hotel to have lunch. I was so tired that I skipped it, read only two pages and was asleep. Keith ate alone and spent a few hours blogging and writing letters.
Our walk in the fading light took us to a square commemorating Don Juan, and then to some beautiful gardens, the Jardins de Murillo, where people were out strolling or passing on their way home from work.
One family used their umbrellas to have a water fight flicking fountain water on each other. The most ingenious flickers were the father and grandfather, who knew all about using their umbrellas for protection as well. The monument to Columbus is an unusual one, with a boat skewered half way up two columns. Columbus's head is featured near the base and a lion prances above. Naturally Ferdinand and Isabella get a mention, having sponsored and approved the great voyage of discovery.
We just walked on and on in the dark, getting totally lost and being given directions back to our suburb, in the opposite direction to what we had imagined. We passed a fire station where there were banners and graffiti saying that 38 firemen had lost their lives on duty, and that that something had to be done. A fireman's complete uniform hung limply from a noose to make the point more graphically. It felt like a night to be walking forever for me, who had had an afternoon's sleep, but to Keith it felt like time to return and for me to do some writing, a duty that I sometimes wish would go away.
I wrote, and then I emailed for advice. Keith snoozed and studied our travel options and we discussed plans. Eventually I emailed my school, and then read some of my book to clear my mind of the present. We were grateful to the kind sister who had left the wifi on, since it was nearly two a.m. when we went to sleep.
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