Pictures of Perfection

Think I'll begin with this Picture of the Perfect Patisserie, the phrase referring both to the little gateau above AND the magasin nearby. I stopped recently to buy from the Academie Patisserie and was delighted to find an example of pink grapefruit, a favourite fruit, used in a confection. This little shop is full of amazing tartlets and sweetmeats and must be one of the best in Brugge, at the very peak, in fact. It is just round the corner from a more famous, larger [and also gorgeous] patisserie, Van Mullem, where crowds sit on the pavement terrace and the inner temple is always full. The large window spaces are poems to the confectioner's art and seduce the eye of the passer-by, even that of the puritanically-inclined [in dietary terms] Both places are testimony to the wider art of Bruges.

Quite forgot in the last blog to mention the two important purchases at the Brocante in late March where I attempted to sell some surplus pictures. One was an antique map of Brugge, subsequently covered by the generous cheque from the Jane Austen Branch in Kent as a 'retirement' gift. It is from the Flandria Illustrata of 1649, by Antonius Sonderus and is detailed with such tiny writing that I have to keep a magnifying glass to hand to decipher it but it is such a privilege to have it there in my sitting room with me as a temporary custodian.

This is the best picture I can manage; doesn't do the map justice at all but it does convey the extraordinary detail of the engraving.

My second Brocante purchase was equally, though differently, thrilling to yours truly. I had never heard of James Ensor till perhaps four or five years ago; he was an artist, born of English parents, who lived almost his whole life in Ostend [his dates were 1860-1949] but he eventually, belatedly, became famous as 'a forerunner of twentieth century Expressionism'. I visited the James Ensor Museum in Ostend three years ago with a girlfriend from Florence who is an artist. I loved some of his work; he was an innovator, often grotesquely so. Anyway to the point. In the Flea Market in March, there was a print of a drawing of James Ensor which was quite special. The original charcoal line portrait had been done by David Lang in 1926 then subsequently the same artist had created prints of it; the one I bought, slightly scruffy, was the artist's proof and is dedicated to the 'Marquise Massoni avec mon plus respect et tout ma reconnaissance. Bruxelles le 20 Okt 1951'. As I managed to negotiate a reduced price of 125 euros, think I got a bit of a prize which cheers me even more each time I look at it. The picture appeals both to the aesthetic and the historian in me.

I'm making this issue a testament to the fact that I have joined the Gadarene swine in their rush towards rampant materialism! After WEEKS of dithering, for I need extra furniture not at all, I have given in to the base desire to possess and place a venerable old [circa 1900] Chinese chest of drawers. I knew it would be perfection in the bathroom [though I might yet move it into the corridor]
and it is. It arrived on Thursday evening delivered by the owner's wife [who gamely struggled] and his grand-daughter, the latter observing that her family had a similar one in their bathroom. This in answer to my diffidence about it being 'in the right place'. Here it is.

And this image doesn't do justice to the subtleties of tone and texture!

But I must stop and prepare for a guest, an old friend of Eric's, en route as I write to a short stay here for three nights, on his way to Germany from the US via the UK. Think my living in Brugge will be a similar story to the nine months I spent in Florence when I happily entertained many visitors, attracted alas, not by my personal magnetism, but the opportunity for free accommodation in a
beautiful destination!!

Statues

Just returned from lovely sunny windy walk to buy a newspaper, a weekly treat, wander down to the Markt to admire the visiting throng and have a coffee in a favourite bar on Sint Jacobstraat [closed!] Stopped to watch a large group, encouraged by a Chinese tour guide, deciding whether to splurge 44 euros on a half hour horse-drawn carriage ride. Many did! Let me try to show you.

Wow! Bernard's instructions Work; can now place photographs more or less where I want them. Great new skill! Let's try again; have intended to photograph Jan Van Eyckplein, very close to where I live but, having lost the camera, have to remember to take out the Ipad and this is a challenge. Today, all set fair.

Jan Van Eyck was one of the most significant Northern Renaissance artists who achieved new levels of virtuosity in oil painting and was followed and copied by many other artists. My shot doesn't show the canal, a few metres to the left of the statue; must try again.

Just to demonstrate my new, low-level flair in image-placement, here is 'my' statue on which I look down every day; 'tis of Hans Memling, a mediaeval world-beater part of whose small but exquisite collection is housed in the museum, Sint Janshospitaal. There are others; at least one Memling is in the Groeninghe Museum here and others are in Gdansk and Italy. [Memo to self: stop lecturing.]

When the agent brought my sister and me to view various apartments in Bruges in December, he identified the statue and I remember saying that I hoped the apartment lived up to expectations because I HAD to live near my favourite mediaeval artist, whose work I make an annual pilgrimage to view. That is one reason I live in a family-sized apartment when I was supposed to be downsizing.

The building, housing a number of apartments, is fifteenth century I think, and perhaps a trifle severe in external appearance BUT it is brilliant living on the third floor [paradoxically my windows are the line across the top; to my inexpert eyes, they look to be on the fourth floor! But I dial 3 in the little lift and also walk up once a day. But I boast; it is an effort. The views are superb; I can tell the time from the clock on the Belfry, the Beffroi, housed in the Markt in the centre of Brugge and can see numerous church steeples and turrets. A roof-scape to savour. [I did include a shot of the building but decided to remove it in an over-cautious moment.]

What else has happened this week? A re-directed envelope brought me a £10 third prize from a 100 Club; only the second time for I am not a winner normally in these ventures. A bill from Telenet, an overdue bill from Eneco with a five euro fine attached, [successfully challenged], a card from a friend in Chianti aged 91 and still firing on a number of cylinders with the help of a Polish carer. A letter from a friend in Wye who doesn't do e-mail plus several hundredweight, oops, kilos, of rubbishy magazines, offers and sundry dubious invitations. And of course, the continuing saga of the lights in this flat, a problem nearing solution I reckon. Still cannot believe that there are only occasional bare bulbs inches from the high ceilings plus clusters of bare wires poking through the plaster, when a new tenant moves in. Definitely the rental turn-over in Brugge and presumably in Belgium, keeps the lighting shops and electricians with a generous supply of sales and work. Oh yes, a delightful and convivial evening with the Crundale Gardeners over a meal at 't Putje in 't Zand. They were passing through en route to the bulb fields of Holland. It was super to see them and just as super to remain behind here when we parted. 'Surely you miss the countryside?' I was asked but I don't. Think I must have been an urbanite at heart, all those years of near-rural living; a metropolitan, built-up kind of person who loves cafes, little shops, restaurants and museums just outside the door.