Showing posts with label Stockholm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stockholm. Show all posts

Thursday, 19 June 2014

They're changing guard at Sveriges Kungahus*


I was standing on an island in the middle of crossing the road
when who should hove into sight


but the Swedish Royal Life Guards,


a combined cavalry/infantry regiment of the Swedish Army


accompanied by the mounted band.


They were on their way to the palace for the
changing of the guards ceremony.
They have been protecting the Royal Palace in Stockholm since 1523.
Apparently 800,000+ spectators visit the outer palace courtyard
each year to witness these ceremonies.

I was in a crowd of three.

Here's how they sounded.



*'They're Changing Guard at Buckingham Palace'
was an oft played record in my early years.

Tuesday, 17 June 2014

The archaic smile






John Fowles described the archaic smile in The Magus as being
'full of the purest metaphysical good humour'...
'timelessly intelligent and timelessly amused.'
With this hovering smile, Greek archaic sculptors were thought to be
suggesting that their subject was alive and infused with a sense of well-being.

Well the MillesgÄrden certainly had the same effect on me.
The sculptor Carl Milles and his wife Olga a painter,
came to live in Stockholm in the early 20th century.
The house, sculpture garden, and gallery
were donated to the Swedish nation in the late 1930s.








The breakfast nook in their kitchen with Olga's decorative paintings
on the cupboards inspired by the Delft tiles on the walls.




Sadly behind a window, with some touristy bod
(you know who you are P) reflected in the glass,
Anne's house, built for Anne Hedmark, Carl's assistant,
who lived there after his death in 1955.
The furniture is designed by Josef Frank.
I could have settled quite happily into the armchair
by the fireplace, perhaps listening to this






We visited Svenskt Tenn of course,


where I would happily have chosen any number of lampshades
were it not for their eye-watering prices,
so after a rather sobering discussion with the very cool sales staff


I came away with these scraps
rather specifically described as breadbasket liners.
I will not be burying them under my bread rolls.


A strange thing happened to my camera
while I was there.



It decided to take pictures in black and white for a while.



 I rather like them.
Here is Glenn Gould in black and white.

Monday, 16 June 2014

Windows on Stockholm





The window in our hotel room.


Shutters like wings.


The tiny 1930s allotment hut transported to Skansen
the outdoor museum of buildings taken from all over Sweden and rebuilt.


Gamla Stan the oldest (and most touristy) part of the city.


Gamla Stan opposite the Nobel Museum
where I was just in time to hear a flash mob singing and then
melting away into the crowd.
Here is my shaky rendition of their shaky rendition.









Stadsbiblioteket.
I wished I had my own library ticket.





More of this later.


Moderna Museet.


The Matisse that didn't get here
next to a Sandy Calder mobile.