Art In Bucharest Field Trip

Free pass granted! On a last minute whim, I signed up for a walking tour of artists' studios today, guided by a lively hipster named Mircea. Mark stayed home with Deets to cook for our pending dinner party later that night! He even drove me to the metro, with sleet, slush and ice blinding our way. 

Total idiot at large.

Emerging from escalator, the metro dumped me off into a winter wonderland of Izvor Park. I made a mental note to drag Deets to yet another fabulous park of Bucharest. Our touring party began with a ceramist's studio, a fantastically cluttered basement filled with beasty and breasty sculptures. The artist, Alina Buga spoke of his trade with glowing pride; using his hands instead of a wheel to mold the clay from a lump to a masterpiece. It was quite inspiring!

Waaay more technical than the
pinch pots I made in high school. 

Cats, dogs, people with boobs. Many sculptures
were created in the likeness of diabolical politicians,
especially during communism.

The thin lipped, schnozzed snail. 

Shininess of their art comes from
polishing the surface with smooth granite.

 Hirschorn appropriate?
His n her motorized rotating heads,
 just aching to be exorcised.

I could not comprehend how they manage to get the hefty sculptures up these winding stairs to head to their 7000 cubic inch kiln that was 40km away. Their answer? Very carefully. 

Next stop, we met a father and son who share a studio in an artist's commune. The father once painted portraits of Nicolae Ceausescu and continues to paint daily, anything from landscapes to still life to portraits. His son, modestly spoke of his early career choice, starting to paint at age five when the rest of us were busy picking our noses.

Self portrait: Constantin's bearded era.

Self portrait: Clean Shave Era

 Constantin the Artist

Gorgeous flowers, buried behind a pile of frames.

Defying hunger pangs and unrelenting snowfall, our third stop was to a lovely lady who weaves tapestries. 

She weaves pictures of windows and birds. Nice lady.

She was the most animated of all the artists, interrupting our guides' interpreting regularly to tell us even more about the awesomeness of weaving. In fact, she has even won a few weaving awards, bemoaning the fact there are no good tapestry museums around. Her work was quite intricate and definitely complicated. I am sorry to say she does not weave pants. I asked.

He topped off our afternoon with a quick look at a local church named Sf. Gheoghe Nou (New St. George's Church) that was loaded with thick historical significance, complete with the tombed hand of Constantin Brancoveanu. He had tiny hands, but apparently didn't stop him from ruling a chunk of Romania (Wallachia) back in the 16 and 1700's.

Persistent rebuilding: floods, earthquakes,
or wars can't keep this fantastic church from being destroyed.

Never judge a book by it's cover:
the paintings inside are exquisite.
And very thorough: not a square inch
of space was spared of color.