In a Dear Green Place

It’s been a long week with a lot of information being thrown at us. Over the last few days all the international students at the University of Glasgow went through orientation. We learned about Scotland, about immigration, about advisors, about banking, about student unions, about nearly everything to get us ready for school in a new place.

All of this information is wonderfully helpful but hours of sitting in a crammed, hot lecture theatre was still exhausting. The best part was the first day when one of the professors of Scottish Literature told us stories from Scottish history and recited some Scottish poetry, both in Scots and in English.

For example-

Scotland

It requires great love of it deeply to read
The configuration of a land,
Gradually grow conscious of fine shading,
Of great meanings in slight symbols,
Hear at last the great voice that speaks softly.
See the swell and fall upon the flank
Of a statue carved out in a whole country’s marble,
Be like Spring, like a hand in a window
Moving New and Old things carefully to and fro,
Moving a fraction of flower here,
Placing an inch of air there,
And without breaking anything.
So I have gathered unto myself
All the loose ends of Scotland,
And by naming them and accepting them,
Loving them and identifying myself with them,
Attempt to express the whole.

– Hugh MacDiarmid

Or-

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou’d the gowans fine;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fitt,
Sin auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin auld lang syne.
– Robert Burns

It was a great time and a great way to start off the orientation. It made me wonder if international students at my old school, the University of Minnesota, get a cool beginning to orientation when they arrive.

Everyone has been really nice and helpful and welcoming. Still, at the end of a long week I was feeling a little wrung out. Today was totally free and I decided to use my Saturday afternoon to visit the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. I couldn’t have picked a better place to rejuvenate.

When I needed a good dose of art to heal my spirit at home I would go to the Minneapolis Institute of Art and spend hours soaking in beautiful things, always ending in front of the huge Tibetan Buddhist sand mandala. I think I’ve found a similar place for rejuvenation here in Glasgow and the Kelvingrove is just a few minutes walk from my flat.

It was extremely crowded today but even though it made it a little harder to get around and a more than a little loud, it was wonderful to see crowds of people spending their Saturday in a museum. It made me smile.

They have quite a varied collection of objects but I spent my time in the paintings section, especially the French gallery. They have a very impressive group of paintings and my breath was taken away a couple of times. There’s this little still life by Renoir that I was really touched by. Normally I don’t find still life to be particularly moving but this one was accompanied by a quote from Renoir’s sons about his father’s hands that had been ravaged by rheumatoid arthritis.

He described how his father would work on small canvases later in life because it was easier. People would come to visit and be shocked at how Renoir’s hands had been deformed and his son said, “I knew what they were thinking. ‘Impossible. How can he make such paintings with such hands?’” I have a print of one of Renoir’s paintings (San Marco in Venice) on my wall at home and I shall never be able to look at it again without thinking of the pain and stiffness that racked his wonderful hands as he grew older. But he still kept working and made little beautiful canvases like the one hanging in the Kelvingrove.

The other section that I would really recommend is next door to the French gallery. In a little room there are three paintings done on three large pieces of canvas bag that were used to decorate a chapel in a prisoner of war camp in Northern Africa during the Second World War. The British commander allowed the Italian prisoners to have a small chapel and one of the prisoners painted the Madonna and angels to decorate it. At the end of the war the prisoners wanted the British commander to keep the paintings out of gratitude for the compassionate way they were treated in a very difficult time. It’s quite an inspiring display.

I left feeling restored and after this week of tours and introduction I have a feeling Glasgow and I are going to get along rather well.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 19th, 2006 at 9:15 am and is filed under Glasgow. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.