M.T.P.: Golden Year

My parents & I paid the Arts Centre another visit on Saturday, wanting to check out the weekend market. Every Saturday, hundreds of vendors assemble on an outdoor plaza behind Dux de Lux bar & restaurant to sell their goods to curious shoppers. We spent some time squeezing past prospective customers and glancing at what was on sale: summer & winter clothing, jewelry, various drinking glasses, candy, pottery, and food. A passerby summed up the market as ‘over hyped & overpriced’ to his friend. The only stall that caught my attention was the one that sold contemporary NZ wall tiles for houses & apartments. In the end, we only bought a bag of nuts from an Egyptian vendor.

We progressed to the Christchurch Public Art Gallery, intending to see its immense collections of art. The main lobby is immense and well lit by natural light that shines through the large curved glass windows. The stairs leading up to the second floor are decorated by hundreds of multi-coloured cards. The galleries on the first floor contained the contemporary . . . um, ‘works’. I’m using quotation marks because I wouldn’t call them works – they’re orderly messes.

I don’t want to rant but I just can’t walk by and say nothing. The first gallery contained several sculptures that are fine except the artist decided to showcase them on top of white beams that stretched to the ceiling! You could barely see them! Another mess was displayed on a digital screen in the main hallway and all it showed was three guitars slowly falling to the floor in succession. That’s art!? In another gallery, there were two explicit ‘works’ involving tin, and glass balls, thus convincing me that both artists should be registered sex offenders. A corner in the same gallery is occupied by a collection of stacked cardboard boxes with yellow plastic fruits littered amongst them. My dad quietly and accurately commented, ‘It takes no talent or thought to put that together.’ And don’t get me started on the cleaning detergents encased in an empty fish tank. I’m a liberal person but even I know the difference between art and garbage being passed off as art. There’s already a showcase for the latter; it’s called the dump.

A great Canadian example would be a painting that’s on display at the National Art Gallery (NAG) in Ottawa. NAG bought the ‘work’ for $1.76 million and all it contains is 3 vertical stripes: blue, red, blue. Two words: Rip Off!

However, there was one contemporary work that I found innovative. The artist had collected many various paper currencies, glued them in their groups and drew intricate natural leaves on them to create a flora.

The second floor contained mostly classical & romantic paintings that were very soothing after seeing the first floor. Here, you knew what you were looking at and admiring. I pointed out a particular portrait to my parents and jokingly remarked, ‘Now that’s a painting I’d wake up to!’

Instead of lunch, we decided to have a light wine & cheese snack at the wine bar named The Alchemy, happily established within the Art Gallery. It was the perfect way to start a Saturday afternoon break as well begin celebrating my dad’s birthday. We emptied a bottle of rose sparkling wine and cleared a plate decorated with various cheeses, crackers, fruits, and breads.

We journeyed back to the Arts Centre to check out the Ernest Rutherford museum. Rutherford was a New Zealand born physicist, known as the father of nuclear physics. He taught at Canada’s McGill University for 8 years and won the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 1908.

After spending a portion of the late afternoon in an Internet café and watching Kiwis play a large game of chess, we went to Trevinos again to continue celebrating my dad’s birthday. I was thankful that I had made reservations a month ago because a business club of some kind arrived, took over the other half of the restaurant and turned it into a drinking and karaoke party. As well, the restaurant happened to be understaffed that night and when that party started it was tough for staff to sort out all the meals. The understaffing only affected us when it came to ordering dessert – at least we were full with our main courses. My dad enjoyed the Fish of the Day, my mom had Chicken Curry, and I settled for a Salmon Steak. Trevinos is definitely a restaurant worth visiting.

Saturday night was spent at my parents’ hotel room because we would be getting up bright & early on Sunday to catch our train for an all day excursion. The Roma Hotel on Riccarton has a 4 plus star rating, despite the washroom doors not having locks. We settled into our beds early in the night to get much needed rest for tomorrow. What a train ride it would turn out to be.

To Be Continued . . .