Paintings at the PMA, and Prisons Too!

Mum had specifically requested that we pay a visit to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. So we did. Though I insisted that we walk from my neighborhood up to the PMA, along the portion of the Schukyll River Trail that runs through Center City Philadelphia, along the eastern bank of the Schukyll River.

This was the last weekend for the big summer blockbuster 'Late Renoir' show. We had no interested in seeing the show. I knew the lines would be awful (observe below) and as Mum said, "Surely they'll still have one up in the regular galleries. They wouldn't have put all of them in the show." We were both right.

Downtown form the Art Museum steps. Check out that line! That's for general admission! Thank heavens we got there early - no wait for us!

After the usual PMA stuff, we headed over to the new Perelman Building annex to check out the special exhibit on the recent conservation of Thomas Eakin's "The Gross Clinic." The photo below was taken by NY Times staff, and features the painting, the senior paintings conservator, and the current Mellon Fellow. (fyi that paintings conservator is kind of a genius - he gave us a tour/lecture as part of our paintings block at school. Genius.) I'm kind of apathetic about the Times, but they did a nice article on the story behind the Gross Clinic project. Really though, come to Philly, see the painting and the excellent video about the project, and then we'll get cheesesteaks.

Then I made poor Mum go with me to the Eastern State Penitentiary. The Penitentiary was opened in 1829, abandoned in 1971, and reopened to tours in 1993. It is kept in a ruined state, with work being done to ensure that further destruction does not occur, not to bring it back to its original appearance.

The Penitentiary does what I understand to be a fantastic haunted house each fall. Doubting this would be something that Mum and I would like and figuring that it would probably be creepy enough in Ordinary Time, this seemed a good opportunity to check out it's peeling paint and crumbling plaster without having creepy costumed people leap out at us.

Reading Terminal Market

The Reading Terminal Market is awesome, and as the website tells us, the Best, Freshest, and Liveliest Public Market since 1893. The market is located on the bottom of the old Reading Railroad Terminal's former train shed.

Old-Timey Philadelphia always had markets, so many so that they crowded together along the old-timey main street (High Street) from the Delaware River one mile into the city! High Street was renamed Market Street. In 1859 everyone decided that open-air markets were unsanitary: the street markets were closed and two indoor markets opened. These, the Franklin and Farmer's Markets, would become the Reading Terminal Market.

Sure, you can buy produce and bread and fresh fish and just-made sausages. The Amish sell jams and milk and the most awesome sticky rolls ever. But! There are also ready-to-eat food stalls!

Hot roast pork sandwiches from DiNic's stall.

This was ridiculously good.

Outside the market building, with treats from Bassetts Ice Cream.

After the ice cream, we tooled around Chinatown and picked up some stuff for the Little Brother.

Summertime Visitor!

Guess who came to spend the long Labour Day Weekend (Friday afternoon - Tuesday morning) in Philly?

Mum!

Shoepalooza

The Centre employs mostly women: that's just how the field of conservation is these days. It can occasionally feel a little middle-schoolish, when personalities clash, but most of the time things are smooth sailing.

So it should come as no surprise that one day back in the Paper Section we ended up talking about shoes. Most of the paper conservators actually have small feet, but, mutant that I am, my feet are the smallest.

At this point in the conversation, one of the paper conservators (Sam) disappears beneath her bench, rummages around, and emerges with a pair of shoes. Turns out that she has a shoe-purchasing problem. Even if the shoes are a size too small for her, she buys them anyway, hoping that they will fit. She wears them once, is uncomfortable, and sadly pushes the shoes to the back of her closet.

Until now. Now she is pushing the shoes toward me. Which is totally awesome for me!

I came in to work on day, and these were sitting on my chair.

Sam is a serious swing dancer. Her dancing partner gave her a pair of shoes last year for a birthday present: they were too small, so he got her a second (properly fitting) pair. However, since he is a man-child, he never returned the too-small ones. A year later, he's cleaning his apartment and finds them. Too late to return them! Sam scoops them up, and they find their way to my little feet. Thanks for being irresponsible, Man-Child Paul!

Harvard

I did not pay them. They paid me.

Beth Gets Married

One of my childhood friends got married almost two weeks ago. And of course I went back to Western PA for the wedding! And this is the only picture that I took the entire weekend.

Beth and her Dad. (Mum's photos from here on out).

Chris and Beth do the cake thing rather gracefully.

Awww... old friends!

New Hair

Two weeks ago, I had Redhead Mohawk Richard cut off 2/3 of my hair. And it's wonderful! I should have done this a long time ago.

I tried to take this shot in my kitchen, in front of my formidable collection of vintage copper Jell-O Molds (inherited from Grandma) so that all could be impressed, but alas. My Big Head blocked them in each shot.