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In Which I Get To Be Tres Monaco

May 12, 2008 by Mike

Monaco

Route: Valbonne - Nice - Cap Ferrat - Monaco

On Vibeke and Eivind's recommendation, visits to the Chagall and Matisse museums in Nice. It's no surprise that the Matisse is the larger, and more enjoyable, experience, in a grand villa high over the town. Here, ladies and gentleman, is an artist. Wow. It's special. He's got it. It. He's a giant.

There are works of art here that feature just half-a-dozen lines or brush-strokes -- and could only be Matisse.

That's the High Art equivalent of Kylie, Prince and Madonna being recognised by their first name only.

And that may be, indeed it should be, the Only Time EVER that Matisse and Madge are compared as Artists.

Chagall, by contrast, is something of a disappointment. For me, it's the subject matter. No artist in the 20th century needed to be so obsessed by the fairy stories of the bible. We're passed that now. Ironically, it's the earliest work in the exhibition, from his teens or early twenties, that gives me a handle on Chagall and a route in to enjoy his later works: it's the faces. Whatever the subject matter, an however obtuse or belaboured the larger picture -- as it were -- by concentrating on the faces I get an enormous satisfaction from his work. The faces live and breath.

Both Matisse and Chagall lived and worked here. (I've also seen Boulevard Somerset Maugham in honour of a local resident). There's something in the air.

Talking of Nice:

I used to have a job.. and a career.

And I have a former colleague from that strange, far-off place who lives here, in Nice, most of the time. Sadly, he's not here this week.

When we worked together -- he was in sales, but we still talked to each other -- he bought an apartment in Nice, moved here, lived here most of the time.. and didn't tell anyone at work.. except me. (We shared a love of Very Good music that nobody else understood.. but I like to think he saw in me someone who would appreciate what he'd done. I did.)

No names, as I'm not convinced his current employers know that he lives here half the time, either. That's got to be the best scam EVER. It's almost enough to make me wish I'd been a salesman too. Ermmm.. nahh, not quite.

But as Ro-, I mean the mystery man, isn't here, it's onwards to Monaco, and another friend and former colleague who is around.

Mandy arrived on Saturday night in readiness for the Grand Prix Historique (though it's fair to say the free champagne was an incentive, too.) She's here with her best friend, who's boyfriend's best friend is racing in the Grand Prix.

Which makes me James' best friend's girlfriend's best friend's one-time colleague. That's close enough for him to welcome me to a private party in his hotel suite, bury me in fine champagne and vodka -- not in the same glass -- well, not most of the time -- and put me up in the palatial apartment he's rented for his friends to boot.

Very Monaco.

All this and I missed the race, which was yesterday. (Eivind, being a petrolhead, would have loved it. I suspect that Vibeke was happier walking in the mountains. Me too.. until I got to Monaco, parked the bike on a corner of the racetrack itself, La Rascasse, and realised just how incredible and colourful and and smelly and LOUD the race must have been. I've never considered going to an F1 race until now. I'm a convert. And the 'real' Grand Prix is only a couple of weeks away.. hmmm.. can I afford to stay here 'til then?

James hadn't won his race, but that wasn't the point, not at all. It really was the taking part that counts. In his case, a dream since he was eight years old. And here he was, racing round the streets of Monaco in his 1959 Lancia-Dagrada FJ. (They look like this -- it really *is* dreamy, isn't it?)

And more to the point, here he was, 24 hours later, still celebrating the fact that he hadn't won. He still hadn't slept, and I suspect he won't for a few days yet. But he was still sober and smart enough to turn down an offer to join me on the road to Turkey.

To Mandy and my new best friends -- Thanks for a Top Day & Night:

Beside the Seaside

In Which I Get To Be Tres Monaco

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