Is this the same city? Gray skies and intermittent drizzle and it’s Oregon once again. On a mission: arrival at the steps of the National Gallery at or before opening, in order to avoid long lines. Miss by a bit, but line is pretty short, and once I realize that we can use our Oslo pass (an purchase for 24, 48 or 72 hours and covers ALL public transportation as well as sites – highly recommended) to go in a different way, we are in like Flint!
The National Gallery is a small, two-story building that covers a wide range of painting styles, but a focus on Norwegian art.
At this time, however, the city is celebrating 150 years of Edward Munch (does “The Scream” ring a bell?), and the top floor is devoted entirely to his life and work. Always so interesting to me to see how an artist arrives at his or her craft, and the arc of discovery and critical acclaim. After a thorough visit (and no museum-back, Dave), we dip into a coffee shop in the park for a warm-up and pastry,
then head over to City Hall.
City Hall? Well, after an inauspicious beginning in 1931, the building was finally finished in 1950, with works by all of Norway’s leading artists. Walls on either side of the entrance were festooned with wood carvings depicting Norse legends and fairy tales.
The main hall contains HUGE murals; one depicting the occupation and liberation of WWII, one with symbols of Norwegian culture, philosophy and family, as well as representations of working life and values throughout history. Quite impressive.
Lucky timing! Out on the waterside promenade was an Indian festival that we briefly stopped in the day before for mango lassi. A large stage with musical performances, rows of food stands, ribbons and large elephant cloth sculptures – not so different from one in downtown center, USA. I decide to enjoy another lassi today, and as we stroll out the west side of the food booths, there is a group of 5 men and 1 woman playing various drums.
So joyful – they are smiling and laughing and part of their routine has them waving their drumsticks and mallets to the sky as part of the performance. I actually got a pretty good film clip of their tune, so hopefully will be able to post the clip here once I’m home. Laughing and tapping feet are all around, and life is good.
Across the plaza is the Nobel Peace Center, a thought-provoking museum that details the history of Alfred Nobel (the inventory of dynamite, who initiated the prize as a way to assuage his conscience), celebrates and informs on the 800+ past recipients of the prize, and devotes quite a bit of space on the most recent winner: building the case and sharing critical reaction to that particular selection.
A slower-paced schedule has nap-time as the next activity, and a slow walk, replete with snapping cameras (yes, rental bikes just like in Boulder!):
and soon, it’s time to decide on dinner plans, pack for an early morning departure, and drop by the train terminal for our tickets before some quiet time to re-energize for the evening. The tram takes us back to the neighborhood where I enjoyed dinner my first evening, and we walk over to the Matthallen, highly recommended and ends up being so similar to the market/food courts that Steve, Lauren and I visited while in Vancouver (check back on my home page, and scroll down to “Vancouver” and you can see for yourself!). Most are closed – Norway is so wonderfully old school in that regard – Sunday is for family and relaxation, so very few stores and restaurants are open today (as well as the fact that 90% of stores close at 5 or 5:30 all other days). We find the last one open, and enjoy a fun meal of tapas and conversation. Finished (and trying to get a better night’s sleep tonight), we walk back the way we came, down Breierveien gate to find Bla, and very highly-recommended Jazz club. The street art is, once again, incredible:
We can hear the music and realize we’re at the back of the club. Heading around the corner, more original artworks:
and we get in line for the club. Lance had found it through his research, and the evening performance was confirmed on a posted, which listed the name of the band, under the title of “we’ll fuck up your Mondays”. LOVE that! A large, industrial room is filled with young people, and a stage containing about 15 performers: a piano lifted from Abbey Road studios, horns, percussion, bass, etc etc, plus an ever-changing roster of vocalists. The music is raucous, filled with laughter and rhythm, and the room hums with good vibes. It’s so jarring to me to be listening to the pulsing New Orleans sound – but here in Scandinavia!
After almost an hour of hip-swaying, and well past our “scheduled” bedtime (train leaves at 6:43 am!), we head back to the tram and our hotel, with smiles on our faces and such pleasure in our hearts. Wonderful days and evenings (well, that soon is broken again, as we’re up from 12:30 until 2:30 with the disco beat pulsing obnoxiously in the square) in the capital.