Sunday, June 12, 2011

Gulbenkian Foundation Museum, Lisbon

In 1971-,72, when I was finishing my BA, I wrote a long paper on Calouste Gulbenkian, from a well-connected Albanian family living in Istanbul and influential with the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. I wrote about his oil interests and how he influenced oil exploration/ownership in the middle East. Suffice it to say that because of his deal-making skills, after WW I he owned a large personal share of mid east oil, and by 1950 he owned 5% of most of mid east oil. This vast fortune allowed him to exercise his interest in art, and over 50 years he collected an impressive variety of objects, which are now on display in Lisbon. It is probably the best museum I've ever seen in terms of variety and quality -- everything is of the highest quality: Persian carpets, French furniture, ancient coins, Monet, Manet, Chinese ceramics, glassware, Turkish ceramics, medieval bibles-- it's quite impressive.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

A sleep-deprived week

Our housekeeper, Anila, is very predictable; no matter how many remotes are left within easy reach of my chair, she will "put them all away" safely out of my reach. Last Sunday afternoon I was listening to the Khachaturian Violin Concerto, which is one of my favorites, at least 20th Century. No problems so far. On Monday, in her straightening mode, Anila must have pushed the alarm button on the Bose remote when she moved it, because at 4 a.m. sharp I was suddenly awakened by the very loud last movement of Khachaturian. By the time I got up and came downstairs to turn it off I was wide awake and couldn't go back to sleep. I have no idea how it came on exactly with the very beginning of the 3rd movement. (I'm sure many concertgoers have had the same experience) I had been out late the night before having supper with some Millsaps and University of Tirana archeology students and professors, so I only got about 4 hours sleep. Then Wednesday and Thursday morning both, I was awakened at 4:45 and 5 a.m. respectively by a very loud thunder storm and lots of rain. Of course I couldn't go back to sleep. We hardly ever have thunder storms here. But I have refilled my sleep bank account, and enjoying the mild weather we're having.
Anila and I just have different ways of looking at things, even beyond the "proper" place for all the remotes. (There are 5 -- three for the TV and satellite and AFN boxes, one for A/C, and one for the CD.) I have no idea if this is cultural or personal. When I am going to cook a big meal, the first thing I do is repatriate all the kitchen items to their proper domicile so I know where stuff is. You remember the aptitude tests -- the Army basic aptitude test was the 20 question type with the four polygons and one circle and you're supposed to pick the one that doesn't match. She won't separate salad forks from dinner forks; teaspoons from soup spoons, etc. She has moved my knife block on the counter countless times to clean under it, in the process she has certainly observed the black handled knives in the block, and yet if there is a knife out, she will put it in the drawer with the silverware, or somewhere else. Oh well, she is very nice and I'm glad she comes regularly. She probably thinks we're a bit different too.