Most of my long trips begin with a red-eye out of Montreal, and a fair number of those red-eyes put me down at Schiphol with hours to spend before the next leg. …
Hello, fellow adventurers! Some places feel important the moment you arrive. Not because they overwhelm you, but because they carry weight – quietly, steadily, and with purpose. Parliament Hill in Ottawa is …
I went to Tate Modern in London to see a spider, and the spider was gone. That is the short version. The longer one is that Louise Bourgeois’s Maman is one of …
In my last post on the National Gallery I followed the Early Renaissance in Florence, and ended with three quiet workshop masters: Verrocchio, who trained Leonardo, Ghirlandaio, who trained Michelangelo, and Fra …
I have always loved the Renaissance, and not just the famous paintings but the idea inside the word itself: rebirth. After centuries in which European art had mostly served the church in …
Pasta is my comfort food. It takes me straight back to Italy, one of my favourite countries, and in particular to a bowl of pasta I ate in Rome that quietly ruined …
I have loved Botticelli since I was a girl. Long before I understood anything about the Renaissance, I knew those faces: the tilt of a head, the pale gold hair, the calm …
Trafalgar Square sits at the heart of London, and in early December it runs cold and bright, with the fountains going and a row of wooden chalets set up along the north …
I had waited a long time for this one. I had listened to The Phantom of the Opera for years and learned most of the songs by heart, yet I had never …
