January 30, 2006

Too Filling

I caught Roberta Smith's review of the new exhibition, "Cezanne in Provence," in Friday's New York Times ("Finding a Muse in Mountains and Chestnut Trees").

It sounds like a terrific show, one I would enjoy if not for the fact that it's on display at the National Gallery of Art, a first-class institution, of course, but one at which taking in such a show promises too much discomfort, annoyance, and pain, to say nothing of too many Washingtonians.

Or was that already understood?

A most insufferable people, they. And I know, because I used to be one myself.

(See also, "Sublimely at Odds," by Blake Gopnik, the Washington Post, January 29.)

[Post-publication addendum: Reader P.G.C., of Washington's Virginia suburbs, writes: "I had the crazy idea of trying to go opening day (Sunday) with my wife, only to open the Wash Post and see a big front page article in the Arts section on the exhibit. Combine that with a rainy day in D.C., and so much for that thought. I
knew it was going to be jammed."]


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