The morning after our wedding in mid-November, J. and I took the train to Philadelphia for the weekend, for a micro-honeymoon of sorts. The trip was largely symbolic – we’re planning a real, albeit much-delayed, honeymoon, this coming spring – we mostly wanted to get away from the over-excited visiting families and get a change of scenery.
The train was a bit late to depart, but once on the way, the ride was trouble-free, and a hair over two hours later we pulled into 30th Street Station in the city of brotherly love. We took the streetcar – one of a seemingly endless variety of public conveyances in Philly, and a gross misnomer, for it spent not a moment of its trip above ground – downtown, checked our bags at the hotel and set out in search of lunch. Owing to the wedding, I did virtually no research on Philly before we left. We had been there once before, but it was several years ago, and we went with our friend C.S., who knew the city really well, so we were content just to follow him and his girlfriend around. This time, we were on our own, and in the absence of any information on lunch-appropriate spots in the vicinity of our hotel, ended up just grabbing a slice of pizza around the corner. It was surprisingly good – very much in the style of the New York’s famous slices, and though not quite that good, it was close. Our friend N. would later comment that she found Philadelphia to be an unfriendly city. I believe it stems from its frustration over its desire to be a New York in some important ways, but never quite reaching that ideal. The pizza was just a small manifestation of that.
Our lunch consumed, we set out for the Philadelphia Art Museum. According to the map we had picked up at the train station, the Museum occupied a location somewhat akin to the Kennedy Center in DC – not that far from anything, but not easy to get to. There was no Metro station anywhere near the museum, and Philly’s bus system looked intimidating even to a transit rat like me, so we walked. The weather was unseasonably warm – it would reach 71 degrees that afternoon – and the walk along Ben Franklin Parkway (more of a boulevard) pleasant.
The Museum is vast – the third largest in the US, after the Met and, I presume, either the National Gallery or maybe the Chicago Institute. There was no way we could see the entire thing in an afternoon, and we would not have wanted to, but we saw enough to make the visit memorable.
The current Classical style building was completed in 1928, though it looks older, and was the product of multiple architects and firms, which accounts for its generic architecture. It is enormous and is more functional than beautiful. Though superficially similar to the Met, it lacks the latter’s sense of proportion, especially when viewed from the front.
Some of the highlights and pleasant surprises we encountered were some early Miro from roughly 1920 that looked nothing like what we think of when his name is mentioned, some late, non-Cubist work by Georges Braque, and some seriously creepy modernist Mexican paintings by artists I was not familiar with. There was also a large gallery dedicated to the sculpture of Constantin Brancusi, which I enjoyed thoroughly, though J. was less enthused. Philly’s collection of Asian art, which we had to see selectively for lack of time, seemed heavy on Chinese artifacts, including, improbably, a complete study of a Chi’ing Dynasty scholar, but we did eventually find the Japanese stuff we were looking for. This included some beautiful ink-on-paper scrolls and some classic pottery. Unfortunately, we had to rush through the decorative arts galleries, but we saw enough to whet our appetites. All in all, a decent introduction to the monstrosity that the Museum is. We’re sure to be back more than once.
We walked back through the warm late afternoon, stopping for a cup of coffee on the way, then checked into our hotel. It being a special occasion, we had splurged a bit and booked a room at the Sofitel, which was far nicer and more expensive than what we normally allow ourselves. There was some history to the place. Though the building looks newer, it was originally built in 1964 to house the Philadelphia Stock Exchange (now owned by NASDAQ). After acquiring the property several years ago, Sofitel did a nice remodeling job, managing to avoid the generic hotel feel for the most part, especially in the guest rooms. Ours was nicely appointed and tastefully decorated in dark woods and bright but not garish fabrics. Far nicer than what we’re used to when traveling. The biggest difference, however, and one that almost made the room worth the high price, was the bed. It was incredibly comfortable. Hands down the best of any hotel we’ve ever stayed in, in the US or abroad, and, to be perfectly honest, better than ours at home. After a day on our feet, it would prove to be a godsend.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment