Maybe because the Joaquín Sorolla house and museum is around the corner from my family home in Madrid, Sorolla was the first painter I connected to. Maybe it was his Mediterranean scenes that took me to my own Summers in the Med. Whatever it might have been, Sorolla has a special place in my heart.
When I am in Madrid, I often sneak into the garden of the Sorolla house museum to read, and occasionally I will go inside to visit the paintings like old friends (you can read about that here).
So when I learned the Norton Museum was hosting an exhibition to complement their existing (huge) Sorolla painting, I had to see it.
It did not disappoint. Most of the paintings are on loan from the Hispanic Society in New York City which commissioned many paintings from Sorolla. The exhibit includes some drafts of paintings, a bronze sculpture from his dear friend and paisano Benlliure -the marble one is in the garden in Sorolla’s house, even one of Sorolla’s palettes!
Sorolla is known as the painter of light, leaving behind the Impressionists, and creating a space of his own, beyond labels.
If you are in the Palm Beach area you should see it, you are welcome.
At this point in my life, I cannot tell you how many times I have crossed “the pond”. My first time was in 1976, I remember because the US was celebrating their bicentennial, so I was 11. Since then, we moved to NY for my 6th grade, then I went to college in Boston, and stayed in NY and Boston for a few years after that, then I traveled for work and vacations all over the US, Caribbean and South America, then I moved back to Boston in ’05, and you know the story since then (if you don’t, you can backtrack in this blog). So, for a conservative number let’s say over a hundred times.
Here are some of my travel and jet lag hacks:
Pre-flight:
Your body has three main built in clocks: stomach, sleep, and light. We need to prep those at least the day before the flight:
Start eating easy to digest meals this will “prep” and confuse you stomach, getting it adjusted for your new meal schedule.
Same with sleep: try getting some naps in the days before the flight. Again, you are trying to “trick” your sleep pattern.
Flight day:
Look good. Do you really want to meet someone important in your life, maybe your next boss, your future spouse, a potential client, or a celebrity, wearing oversize sweats and Crocs. Is it really that difficult for you to look good and be comfortable at the same time? Work on it; for me it means a button-down shirt, blazer, chinos, and comfortable loafers – just like George Clooney in Up in the Air (see clip below). Ground staff and cabin crew are going to like you more if you look nice than if you look like you are going to a pajama party.
Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Cabin air is super filtered and super dry, so on a long haul you are going to notice. Most of your tiredness after a long flight is more dehydration than tiredness.
Night flights: try to sleep! Take a heavy-duty Melatonin, eye mask, ear plugs, blanket and sleep, sleep, sleep, or at least try to.
No alcohol, coffee, tea, sodas, all those drinks are going to make you pee, or make you thirsty, or dehydrate you or whatever, stick to water. I also put on moisturizer every time I go to the bathroom and wash my hands, it feels nice.
Adjust your watch if you are an old fool like me.
After landing:
Do not have a big meal, stick to easy to digest meals for a day, to continue adjusting.
Try to adapt to the local schedule ASAP, no going to bed in the morning, no big meals at odd times. Be a local.
Try to go outside, if there is sun, take in the sun, remember light is one of your body clocks.
You are welcome.
Any thoughts? Additions? Suggestions? I would love to read them in the comments below.
If you pay attention and follow this blog you will notice that the main topics covered are The Camino, academics and education, Literature, art and culture, and then a lot of random thoughts and stuff.
This reflects who I am, of what drives me, what makes me tick. And as such it is -I guess- remarkably reliable. The reason for my passion for art and culture lies in the emotions involved and invoked by art.
Fortunately, a lot of art is now accessible from the comfort of your home: film, books, and so forth. But, a lot of art has to be shared, you have to get out to experience it. I am blessed to live near Palm Beach, which is -I have said this before- an oasis of art and culture in this suburban wasteland that is South Florida.
The Norton Museum gets a lot of attention in this blog because it is a jewel of a place which I love. I recently went to see their latest addition: John Singer Sargent’s painting of Amy Phipps Guest. It is a beautiful painting with illumination reminiscent of Sorolla (they were contemporaries and not only did their careers overlap, their technique is eerily similar).
Another cultural treasure of Palm Beach is the Palm Beach Symphony, which I saw perform Handel’s Messiah in December. I recently saw them perform their season finale, at the Kravis Center, their “home”, which included Mozart’s Piano Concerto #23, Franck Symphony in D minor, and Hailstork’s Monuments for solo trombone
Literally a block away from my parents’ flat in Madrid is the Museo Sorolla. A little jewel of a museum. It is the urban palazzo of turn of the century painter Joaquín Sorolla which now houses his museum.
Once cleared the gate you are welcomed into a small refreshing garden. An oasis in the middle of downtown Madrid, surrounded by apartment buildings, shops and offices.
If being in the garden seems like a departure from the city, walking into the museum takes you to Sorolla’s beloved Mediterranean coast, where he painted most of his oeuvre. Some of the paintings are massive, but more important is the artists’ grasp of light. You see, light on the Mediterranean is quite different from light anywhere else – if you have not seen it, you will have to trust me on this one. Sorolla captures that light, that breeze, that heat, and puts it on the canvas, which is the reason he is called the “painter of light”. While some people label him an impressionist, he is beyond impressionism. The house also holds a lot of art that was given to him, his great collection of Valencia ceramic, where he was from, and many of his random knick-knacks.
Since I was a teenager, having the museum so close to home was a blessing and a curse. I did not always go into the museum, I just stayed in the garden, reading. But knowing that it was there I took it for granted and did not visit for a long time. A couple of years ago my sister Susana and I took our niece and nephew for a nice visit. This May, during a coffee run, I sneaked in for a few moments of escape.
My family used to go on holidays to Galicia, the Northwest coast of Spain. Atlantic water temperature and Atlantic waves. When my little sister Rocky was born we decided to switch our holidays to Mallorca island on the Mediterranean, where we found a little “cala”, inlet on the south shore of the island. Warm, beautiful, tranquil, crystal clear water. We have been coming to the same place for the last forty odd years, Camp de Mar. First we stayed at the “Gran Hotel”, old world style and panache, real furniture, “sit down dinner”, even a springboard on the beautiful pool! Unfortunately, after falling into disrepair it was razed and turned into a gaudy monstrosity. So we rotated through a series of rental homes until in the early 00s we found the Dorint. A resort built on what used to be an old farm where we used to go on nice summer evening walks eating the carobs off the ground. Some of my fondest memories are of excursions around the island, walking the old streets of the capital, Palma de Mallorca, with it’s beautiful squares and Gothic cathedral. I loved coming to the island when I had my own business and customers to visit. For many years when I had the money I rented a rag top Jeep to drive around the island and to go to the village to pick up freshly made ensaimadas, the local pastries, enjoying the sun and wind in my face and hair (I had hair then).
For the last few years my parents have been bringing their grandkids on holidays here. The rest of us come and go as time and money allow! I have been able to come for the last three years and I love it.
There is something magical about these islands. The light, the sea, the warm, dry days and nights, the intoxicating sweet smell of night. Not surprisingly it is, and has been home to Phoenicians, Romans and Moors, Chopin and George Sand, Agatha Christie, Rubén Dario, Joan Miró, and more recently Michael Douglas, Claudia Schiffer, and of course Rafa Nadal.
Our life here is very quiet. Wonderful breakfasts with local pastries, quiet beach, pool, siestas, and nice meals. I enjoy the gym, swimming, running on the local forested hills, evening walks with the family after dinner and the bar at night. But most of all I am getting a ton of reading done for my Ph.D. exams next spring! On Sundays I go to the village to the 1248 church for mass (granted it was pretty much re-done in 1703, but still).
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