CANALETTO AND THE WALLACE COLLECTION
Is viewing paintings more than a comfort, a way of plugging
into a wider, deeper, more profound perspective during troubled times, or is it
merely escapism?
I found myself thinking these thoughts the other week as I
stood before one of the Canaletto’s in the Wallace Collection. These are
magnificent pictures that can, if you stand still, focus and absorb the
Venetian scene, the placid water and the active inhabitants, transport you back
to early 18th Century Venice. For moments on end I was mesmerised
and as we left the gallery and later, as my friend and I sat in the cafe on the
ground floor, I felt somehow different about Brexit, Donald Trump and the
gloomy international prognosis.
In what way ‘different’ it was hard to pin
down, perhaps it was no more than having glimpsed another world, in which these
concerns were not only absent but incomprehensible. It was an emotion akin to envy, - most
certainly misplaced, - of a simpler better age and a more profound sense of
something lost.
So to return to my question, I think those moments before
the Canaletto canvas were more than simple escapism, more like slowly tuning in
to a different rhythm, other more profound realities.
Then again it could be simple escapism, in which case ‘viva
la escape.’