Today was a sunny day and I went down to pickleball at the tennis club for an enjoyable few games. Then followed James’ and my carefully planned arrangement to get to our Art History class in time. I left Pickleball ten minutes early and James collected me by car from Central Avenue. I changed my top in the car and had a snack before we arrived comfortably in time to park and walk to the class. The tutor is the very pleasant and intelligent art historian Sybren who taught the Northern Renaissance course last year. He was telling James that he did a degree in Geology during lockdown because he was bored - and got a First! The introductory lesson was all about who decided that the Italian Renaissance was so great - spoiler alert - it was the Florentines who thought that everything had been leading up to their self-described perfect art. They discounted or minimised other art movements as inferior. It was fascinating.
Then off we went in the next part of today’s adventures to see the second De Gaulle film; Liberté. Having almost missed the cinema showings of the first film we booked the second one quickly afterwards. This time we were in Glasgow at Braehead Odeon and we were in nice time to have a cup of tea before our film. It was just as good as the first film. De Gaulle was such a character. Over the closing titles a twenty-one stanza 1942 poem by the French poet Paul Éluard called “Liberté” was read aloud; he names many places, real or imaginary, on which he would write the word liberté. The last line of each verse is J’écris ton nom. Thousands of copies of it were dropped by parachute that same year by the RAF over occupied France. It was a fitting and moving end to the film.
Then off we went in the next part of today’s adventures to see the second De Gaulle film; Liberté. Having almost missed the cinema showings of the first film we booked the second one quickly afterwards. This time we were in Glasgow at Braehead Odeon and we were in nice time to have a cup of tea before our film. It was just as good as the first film. De Gaulle was such a character. Over the closing titles a twenty-one stanza 1942 poem by the French poet Paul Éluard called “Liberté” was read aloud; he names many places, real or imaginary, on which he would write the word liberté. The last line of each verse is J’écris ton nom. Thousands of copies of it were dropped by parachute that same year by the RAF over occupied France. It was a fitting and moving end to the film.
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