Switzerland, day two

Wednesday I went to Lausanne! I meant to go to the Olympic Museum, but I double-checked their hours before leaving, which was a good choice, since they've been closed since January 2012 for renovations.

BUT that was actually brilliant, because instead I went to the Collection de l'Art Brut (outsider art). Jean Dubuffet was really interested in how (he believed) insanity caused creativity, and collected a ton of art made by people deemed mentally ill and often placed in asylums and the like. He later donated his collection to the city of Lausanne.

I was a little worried that this collection would be like, fetishizing the otherness of the so-called "outsider", but that was not a necessary worry to have. The panels all did a really balanced and respectful job of describing the lives of the sometimes troubled people behind the artworks. They perhaps could have done a better job historically situating things (that is, explaining how bad asylum conditions were in the forties and fifties when a lot of the artists were shut inside them, and not just citing institutionalization), but the descriptions usually did not try to glorify the art as created by mental illness. Instead, mental illness was a factor in the artist's life--the panels described the works as discrete parts of their stories, perhaps affected by their situations but not parroting Dubuffet in saying the madness caused the brilliance or anything similarly troublesome. I really respect the museum for that.

As an art history major in denial, this museum visit was pretty interesting for thinking about what constitutes the canon. I'm at least slightly versed in modern American and European art, and I had previously heard of maybe one of the artists I saw displayed yesterday. I'm not sure I like what this says about what we as a society think is great modern art. Yes, the Collection contains some outsider art that is more just a look at the intense pet projects of some very driven people (this one guy made things out of seashells? I don't even know), but a lot of it is not pet projects. It's just art by marginalized people, and therefore art that never entered the mainstream art world. That, my friends, makes one think.

This exhibit was actually really creepy and probably falls more into the pet project category. That's a doll.

After the art experience, I decided to hike up one of Lausanne's many giant hills (the whole city is hills) and go to the cathedral. Though under construction, it was a cathedral, and lots of gorgeous things therefore remained. Also it was built in the 12th century, so it would be exciting even if it were ugly.

Rose windows are my favorite.

There were a lot of statues.

The cathedral was a big contrast with the art museum, and that was quite nice. All in all, Lausanne might have been one of my favorite places in Switzerland. Less cosmopolitan than Geneva but just as pretty, it had more of a distinctive Swiss feel to it, and I'm a bit sorry I only spent a day there.

I took this picture at the top of the tower to be silly and send it to my sister, and then a lady noticed and asked if I wanted her to take my picture. Awkward times.

Switzerland, day one

First off, I'd like to apologize for being several days behind in posting. Sometimes the real world gets in the way. However, I've been in Switzerland for several days now. What a country! In my thus far limited experience, all Swiss efficiency stereotypes are so, so true.

Tuesday morning after arriving in Geneva I spent my first few hours sort of just wandering around being on the fringe of totally lost and thinking maps are for squares. This was probably not the best use of time. Eventually, though, I relented in need of a water fountain, and (after finding it) visited the tourist information desk and received a map.

But then I had to make the difficult decision of what to do with myself! I crossed the Rhone River and hung out in the Jardin Anglais looking at the Jet d'Eau for a few minutes, then headed uphill to a museum my guidebook had mentioned and that sounded interesting--la Maison Tavel. It's this small museum in this old house (like, 13th century old) that documents the history of the city of Geneva. I was pretty much the only one there which was a little weird, but it was certainly interesting. Kind of an interesting mélange of urban history/art history/military history and the story of the family that lived there.

Jet d'Eau! It's one of the tallest fountains in the world!

After la Maison Tavel, I headed to lunch, using a tip the internet had given me. Switzerland is super expensive, food (and public transportation) especially, but there are cafeteria-style restaurants in the major grocery/department stores that have a) reasonably-priced food, b) good food, and c) vegetarian food. The one of these I stumbled across was, even better, called Coop and a cooperative! So now I can say I eat in a co-op, even in Switzerland. Eating cafeteria-style also makes eating alone a bit more enjoyable.

Cathedrale St. Pierre

With a full belly and map in hand I pressed on to the Cathedrale St. Pierre, because old cathedrals are the bee's knees. Cathedrale St. Pierre was a Catholic cathedral, but from the time of John Calvin on it has been Protestant (which reminded me a lot of some of the transitions of places of worship in Turkey). Calvin's chair is inside, which is pretty cool since he was so very influential on the history of Geneva as a whole. 

There was a little sign advertising that you could go up into the tower of the cathedral for four francs, and despite being a cheapskate who doesn't like heights all that much I decided to go for it. SO WORTH IT. The views were completely spectacular.

I love how there are just mountains all over the place here.

Jet d'Eau from far above.

All good things must end, and eventually it was time to head back to the house. Once again, I have completely wonderful family hosting me in a little town between Geneva and Lausanne!

I almost fell down the spiral staircase when this thing came out of nowhere and terrified me. Good times.

Why, it's the Royal Pavilion!

Despite having been to Brighton several times before, I'd never been inside the Royal Pavilion. Whoops.

Apologetic face.

Saturday, however, I remedied this situation.

Alrighty, the Royal Pavilion is super interesting. It was built by King George IV before he became king and had to start taking life seriously. The inside is decorated in what's called the chinoiserie style, which means all these white men who had never been to China approximated what they thought Chinese decoration should look like and applied it to the palace. Orientalism! Counter-intuitively, also, the outside looks vaguely South Asian. 

The place was gutted by Queen Victoria, so most of what's inside has been painstakingly reconstructed by experts. A lot of the original furniture is on loan back to the Pavilion from wherever Victoria took it, and there is no way to describe this furniture and decoration other than luxurious. I can totally picture how people would have partied here all night, every night. This may be because my complimentary audio guide kept playing period music and telling me to imagine I was a guest of Prince Regent George. Upstairs, there was a small feature on the Pavilion's use as a military hospital for Indian soldiers during World War I. It was really fascinating to read about all the efforts the Brits made to be conscientious of the dietary and religious needs of the different Indians, including putting in place Indian class structures. This was mostly because they wanted the Indians to like them so they'd respect their colonial power, but still.

In short, the Royal Pavilion was a treat. And on a frigid day, the fact that they had actual fires going in most of the fireplaces was a big bonus.

The family went out to a pub Saturday night as well. This is England.

Vegetarian style.

Back to Brighton

People are delightful. I like people, mostly. But after a period of being around people all the time, I need a long period with no people. And there are some things I don't like to do with people at all. If you are my friend, I probably don't want to go to an art museum that I've never explored alone with you. It's nothing personal. It's not a particularly social thing to do, anyway, because museums are quiet. And everyone has a different museum pace. And different interests. It could ruin a friendship to rush through things when one person wants to move slowly! Isn't it much nicer to be solitary in this situation? Just being real, here.

After being constantly around family for several weeks now (minus a couple hours here and there), Friday I went to the National Gallery. I went alone, spoke to nobody I knew from 10-6, and it was kind of a perfect day. I love my family. I really do. But I also really like just hanging out by myself sometimes.

Note the snow.

Now, going into London from Brighton Friday was probably not the best choice I've ever made. It was snowing, and I was warned many times that I would probably wind up spending the night in Victoria Station, or that if I managed to make it home at all it would be a long and arduous process. But, as anyone who knows me can tell you, I like to court danger at every turn. More realistically, as anyone who knows me can tell you, it takes more than a little snow to keep me away from The Arnolfini Portrait. In any case, I made another wise choice and also didn't do my research on how to get there particularly well, beyond a general list of tube stops. So though I ended up having to walk a fair distance, it was through Whitehall and around Westminster and really quite nice (if a bit cold and wet). And at the end of the day, it only took me two hours to get home... instead of the usual ~50 minutes. But it was on a warm train and I had a seat and a cup of tea so it was completely worth it.

I accidentally saw Big Ben.

Now that we've had a romp through Claire's dubious travel decision making, there's the gallery itself. I am an art history major in denial. I love art history. I love history (my real major), as well, which explains the denial part, because a double major is a bit daunting... but this is all a problem for another day. I was so very excited to go to the National Gallery because a lot of the works I studied in my art history class this past semester live there. It's one thing to see masterpieces projected onto a screen--it's another thing to get down low at the proper angle to see the skull in Hans Holbein's The Ambassadors with the actual large work staring you in the face. Magnificent art in person is just a treat, especially when you have already have some level of familiarity with what you're looking at. It's like paying a visit to old friends! And the National Gallery is like paying a visit to dozens of old friends all at once!

The only things I don't like about art museums are the crowds (which are inevitable) and the display of things, sometimes. The info panels in the National Gallery are better than most, but the presentation of works occasionally leaves something to be desired. Some works appear behind smudgy glass, and some are placed as such that you can barely see them without a large amount of glare. Small complaints, but they did detract from the visual experience a bit and deserve to be mentioned. I think this says more about how hard it is to curate museums than any particular failure on the National Gallery's part, and it certainly didn't ruin my enjoyment of my day.

Turkey, days 11 and 12

As Tuesday was mostly devoted to recovering from the Ephesus adventure, please don't be offended if I don't share every sordid detail of my day with you, dear readers. We did walk around Nişantaşı a bit, which is a nice area, and and my grandma and I had lunch with a friend of my hers. Then I spent a few hours alternately playing Oregon Trail on my phone and reading while politely banished to a back room so they could talk about old times without me sitting there with a glazed look on my face. It was very culturally enriching. And I shot a lot of bears and made it to Oregon, only losing one family member along the way. So it was sort of a perfect afternoon off.

Wednesday was also a bit slow, but it was a nice last day. We took a boat trip up and down the Bosporus, and hung out with this guy for a few minutes while waiting for the boat.

His name is Fuzuli. According to the internet, he was a pretty great poet, and wrote in three languages! And that is all I can say about him. Anyway, his statue is pretty impressive.

Yesterday I left Turkey, which I have somewhat mixed feelings about (though I'm mostly happy to be back in a city that sort of kind of feels like home). I hope to unpack those feelings, and share some thoughts about this travel in general, in a later post. So bear with me.

Turkey, day 10

At 5:30 Monday morning, my grandma and I got in a cab to the airport. After checking in, we hopped in a bus to the plane. Then we boarded the plane, flew 550 km, and deplaned at Izmir. Next, we joined a bus to Selçuk. Then we took a cab to the House of the Virgin Mary and Ephesus.

It was a long day.

But just, Ephesus.

Why hello there, Library of Celsus.

AHHHHHH ancient ruins are pretty cool.

But before going up to Ephesus, as I said, we visited the House of the Virgin Mary. I had been warned by a friend (shout out to Jacob!) that the area was not worth the 15 TL entrance fee, and this is probably somewhat accurate--especially as I am not even a little bit Catholic. However, the story (history? That's a loaded question...) of the site and its position as a place of pilgrimage are fairly interesting to read about and experience, and I'm glad I went. I didn't take any pictures of the church itself, but there was this pit there. Please tell me if you know what it is, because I can't figure it out.

After this nice dose of religious history, we moved onto the main event: Ephesus. Ephesus was a Greek city and then a Roman city, and at one point it had a population of a quarter million people. Now about 35,000 people live in the nearest town. Aren't population shifts cool? I'm not going to try to recount the history of Ephesus here, because a) there's a lot to it and b) I'm not incredibly well versed in it, but I suppose what's important is that it was off and on a very significant place from the 10th century BCE to the 15th century CE. Obviously, that's a long time.

A lot of the really nifty statues and things have been moved to museums elsewhere from Ephesus, because of vandalism fears, but that's not to say that what remains isn't spectacular. As my grandma said time and time again as we were walking around, "how did they manage to build all this back then?" How indeed. I am almost sure pictures can express this better than words, so here are a few.

Some latrines. You're welcome.

The Temple of Hadrian. Look at that arch!

According to my grandma people still perform here sometimes? I think that would be brilliant.

I found Ephesus kind of strange because you can just clamber all over most of the ruins. Maybe this is the case everywhere there are ruins like this? My experience is pretty limited. In any event, I can't complain, because it means you can feel like an ancient Greek! Kind of. At the very least, you can climb to the top of the theatres and take snazzy pictures.

The Odeon!

We decided to go inside this covered archeological area to see the terrace houses, which were so, so fantastic. Archaeologists are slooowwllly uncovering and rebuilding them and the whole interior is like a giant jigsaw puzzle. Some of this work is being sponsored by the very same company that operates the brilliant office building/contemporary art museum we visited Sunday in Istanbul!

I could go for some mosaics like this on my floor.

The final thing I have to say about Ephesus is that there are SO MANY cats around. I mean, there are a lot of stray cats in Turkey in general, but when my grandma and I took a snack break no fewer than six cats wound around our feet in hopes of procuring some banana. Cats don't even eat bananas, right? These two were having a lengthy cat standoff outside the library.

I think the one lying down was victorious.

After Ephesus, we had a delightfully inexpensive and delicious vegetarian lunch in Selçuk. This camel was also wandering around making jangly noises--pardon the horrible angle of this photograph.

We walked around Selçuk for a little bit, and I enjoyed the taste of small-town Turkey, but then it was back to Istanbul with the whole cab-bus-plane-bus-cab process in reverse. We arrived back just in time to collapse into bed, exhausted. 

*Most of the photos with me in them in this post are thanks to my dear grandmother. Also, kudos to her for doing all this trekking with me!

Turkey, days eight and nine

With a winter term project like mine, one must echo the Dowager Countess: "What is a weekend?" (sorry, I watched a lot of Downton Abbey over break). Some weekdays have been (and will be) necessarily lost to travel, and the tourism doesn't end just because it's Saturday or Sunday. This particular weekend, however, was fairly relaxed. Saturday, we traveled to the Beyoğlu area, and I looked at Galata Tower for about 30 seconds. Like many things in Istanbul, this tower has worn many hats in its centuries of existence. Now it's home to a nightclub and restaurant with great views of the city.

This plaque was probably really interesting except I can't read it so I make no promises.

Beyoğlu is pretty interesting historically beyond just the tower. The area was traditionally home to the non-Turks of Istanbul, and foreign churches and old embassy buildings remain. On the main shopping street of the area, İstiklâl Caddesi, old-fashioned trolleys (but no cars) run up and down. It's pretty cute, but I think I've perhaps officially had enough shopping in Turkey. This area is also near where the Istanbul Modern, which I already visited and loved, is.

Yesterday was all fine and dandy, but today we did something super cool. This corporation, Borusan (I'm told their work has something to do with pipes), has turned one of their office buildings into a museum--but only on the weekends. During the weekdays, people do their work surrounded by some truly magnificent contemporary art (though they must have to clean off their desks every Friday, which could be a pain). There's a lot of permanent neon sculpture by François Morellet, many works by contemporary American artists, and a really interesting temporary exhibition by Brigitte Kowanz. Interspersed with all this art are desks and computers and books and other workplace essentials. I'd never heard of any museum like this, but it's such an awesome thing to do--and is probably pretty profitable as well. Everyone's a winner! Incidentally, the architecture of the building is pretty boss.

Tomorrow grandma and I are going to Ephesus. This means getting up at 5am (happy Monday!), but I very much feel that it will be worth it in the end!

Turkey, day seven

Topkapı Palace, y'all. (Dotless "i"s are so confusing.)

Or rather, a very small part of it.

So back when this was a functioning palace, thousands of people lived here. The grounds are vast, as they needed to be--mind-blowing-ly, more people lived at Topkapı than attend my college. But unlike Dolmabahçe, Topkapı is not strikingly luxurious. Perhaps this is partially because it has been restructured into a museum, but I think it's also partially due to the era in which it was built. The Ottomans were on top of the world in the 1450s, and they didn't need to prove anything with their architecture or decoration. This is not to say there is nothing opulent about it. There are many, many fantastically tiled rooms, and some cool stuff like this:

Turns out it's really hard to photograph stained glass on a cell phone.

The museum artifacts are also quite spectacular, particularly the wide variety of massive emeralds and some pretty tricked-out swords. The harem, though, was probably the most interesting to visit. Apart from one real creepy diorama featuring humanoid mannequins, most of the harem is preserved in a relatively unadorned manner. Like other architecture of the palace, the harem is surprisingly simple at times, but I suppose in some ways it was just a sort of dormitory for the many eunuchs and concubines (the quarters of the mother of the sultan and the crown prince are appropriately bedazzled.) It's just so stunning to think that people lived there in the past; that the labyrinth of halls could be called home. Also, the social structures of Topkapı were really fascinating, if completely racist and sexist.

Also yesterday, we were treated to a nice dinner by a family friend. I am a college student, so while claims were made that this was "not a fancy restaurant" it was actually incredibly elaborate by my standards. Look at what they made me at this fish restaurant because I don't eat fish: 

This presentation only came after approximately 500 appetizers, called mezze and highly traditional. My grandmother was quite excited for me to experience mezze, and now I understand why. Everything imaginable was served up in small quantities, and we had to try not to stuff ourselves before the real food came (which for everyone else means a fish of some variety). And after this real food, of course, was dessert, which was thoroughly over-the-top.

Not pictured: even more dessert.

Yesterday also was very exciting because we booked tickets to go down to Ephesus on Monday! Awwwwww yeeeeeaaaah ancient ruins. 
 
How is it that I leave Turkey in less than a week??

Turkey, day six

I went to Asia this afternoon. What did you do?

That's right, the OTHER SIDE of the Bosporus!

Before that exciting boat journey, however, we saw two of my favorite things of this trip so far. First up, Chora Church (which also has a lot of other names). This church turned mosque turned museum has some of the most fabulous (and well-preserved) Byzantine mosaics and frescoes in the world. And since it's a pretty bare-bones museum--there are none of my favorite informational panels--it was a fun name-that-iconography quiz game! But actually, since the whole church is full of art and its all in its original location, I wouldn't like it any other way. Time capsule!

I think this one should not be on the quiz.

After this excursion we went over to the Spice Bazaar (Egyptian Bazaar), because clearly yesterday did not include enough bazaar-ing. I enjoyed my Spice Bazaar experience much better than my Grand Bazaar experience, because the Spice Bazaar is smaller and beautiful and smells delicious. Also, there's no need to worry about which shop to enter, because essentially all of them sell spices (and we weren't buying anything, anyway).

I always want to cook with the spices have the best colors. In this case that would be all of them.

After this ramble through the bazaar, we hopped on a boat to the other half of Istanbul. There is an underground tunnel in progress, but right now the only ways to cross the Bosporus are by one of two bridges or by boat--massive tunnel-building projects are expensive. Infrastructure has improved dramatically over the last forty years, though. When my family lived here in the 60s, the only option was a car ferry.  

To celebrate our arrival in Asia, we bought a bunch of grocery store shopping bags (as you can see in the first picture, living the high life). Then to actually celebrate, we had tea. As you can see, the sun was showing its face for the first time in days. It has my permission to stick around.

Bright green grated pistachios should be a required topping for all things.

Turkey, day five

Today (edit: actually yesterday, now) we visited the Istanbul Grand Bazaar, the largest covered market in Istanbul and one of the biggest and oldest in the world. It was founded in 1455! Originally merchants gathered together in areas of the bazaar based on their guilds, and today similar items are still generally found in the same areas. Putting so much commerce under one roof was thought to be good for everyone in terms of safety of goods and price protections.

Abandon hope all ye who enter here

Alright, so I am not a natural-born shopper, bargainer, whatever. True millennial that I am, face-to-face conversation scares me and I frequently like to do price comparison and purchasing online and have things delivered to my doorstep without ever necessarily having interacted with another human. This is, naturally, not the way things are done in the Grand Bazaar. There are over 3000 stores (!??!?!?!?!) that stretch out for miles and price comparison is only so possible. First, most of the shopkeepers stand outside their shops and attempt to bring people in by vocally advertising deals and prices. Second, once you have decided to enter, they will offer you tea or coffee, probably, and then they will focus their attention solely on helping you until you buy something or leave. Also, whatever price is listed is not actually what you are expected to pay--haggling is usually very much needed. If, like me, you don't speak Turkish, this can be difficult (though our wonderful host did a fair bit of haggling for us). While this is altogether a very polite way of doing business, it's also very stressful for us introverts of the world.

We bought a small and gorgeous kilim from these very nice carpet merchants.

However, the Grand Bazaar is also a completely necessary cultural experience. Don't get me wrong--I liked visiting the bazaar, in the end. I just found it exhausting. Where else can you see such a variety of authentically Turkish wares and people? And yes, the Grand Bazaar is old and historic, and brilliant in that manner. We went in with a list of souvenirs and other things to be purchased, and came out almost entirely satisfied with our purchases and with the atmosphere.

Old arches and columns are my favorite.

ALL THE SILVER

This day was also a success in my ongoing in-search-of-good-food quest because I tried sahlep for the first time, this hot drink made in part from orchid. So so good. 

Mmmm...

Others in my party also had yummy things.

HAVE I MENTIONED HOW GLAMOROUS TURKISH COFFEE IS?!?

 And it was in a venue with a wonderful theme.

Everyone's new favorite thing: the fes (/fez) lamp

Turkey, day four

Good news: I feel mostly better! Bad news: the weather is not better! Today we decided that this didn't actually matter and ventured off to the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia in the snow. Because especially the Blue Mosque features of lots of marble in its stairs and courtyard, I cannot entirely recommend this approach. 

Not pictured: people falling all over the place.

Of course, once inside, the snow doesn't matter (though it's still cold). The Blue Mosque is gorgeous. Iznik tiles adorn many surfaces, and the dome and sub-domes are a sight to behold. Everything has a pleasant blueish tint (natch) from the tiles and the paint. Unlike Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque is still used as a place of worship, meaning we followed appropriate mosque clothing etiquette before entering and tried to be as respectful and quiet as possible once inside. It was built by the Ottoman ruler Ahmed I--and I think technically called Sultan Ahmed Mosque--and is about four hundred years old. Although interesting, the history of this mosque (by nature of its age) is a bit less compelling than its neighbor down the road that we battled the snow to visit next.

As everybody knows, Hagia Sophia is OLD. Like, 1500 years old. In its many years of existence, it has been an Eastern Orthodox Cathedral, a Catholic Cathedral, an Eastern Orthodox Cathedral (again), an Imperial Mosque, and a secular museum. Despite rampant iconoclasm when the building was converted into a mosque upon the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople, there are lots of later-uncovered Byzantine mosaics inside. This is awesome because early (relatively) Christian icons are some of my favorite things! And since Hagia Sophia is a museum, there are also lots of plaques--my other favorite thing! It's a match made in heaven. This building also makes me wish I were more of an architecture person because the dome is magnificent and has a long and interesting history. The fact that it is still all the way up there and in decent shape (though it has undergone restoration) is just so, so, incredible. The detailed mosaic work, in varying states, is breathtaking.

Deesis: Judgement Day

An Empress Zoe mosaic from the 11th (!!!) century

There is something singularly spectacular about being inside a building that is (at its core, at least) as ancient as Hagia Sophia is. People used this space almost a thousand years before the European discovery of the Americas. People constructed these intricate mosaics before using glass magnification to see was really a thing! There was this mural in my elementary school about how the water cycle, and I always thought this part where it illustrated that the water you drink could have been the beverage of dinosaurs was way cool. I feel the same way with old buildings--the stone you're walking on was walked on by Ottoman leaders! 

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

We also had a nice lunch today with an old friend of my grandmother and grandfather, a professor at Istanbul Bilgi University and a '60s graduate of my college. Though I promised not to blog about my lunch today, I must share this pudding that is made out of chicken (among other things). Since it has meat in it, I will not be sampling this particular dessert, but I will admit to being very, very curious.