Martigny and UP (5/12)

Friday dawned sunny, such that looking up to see the mountains surrounding Martigny, with the snow on them, was spectacular!  After breakfast, I headed to the Fondation Pierre Gianadda. It’s my impression that this foundation plays a role similar to that of the Beyeler Foundation in Basel, in that the “Fondation” has its own collection of art, but it also features special exhibits.  When you go to the museum, what you should expect to see, for the most part, is a special exhibit.  It sounds, as well, as if this foundation has been active in the town of Martigny because there are interesting statues all around town (funded by the foundation), and I read somewhere that the foundation also helps out people in need in the Martigny area.

Anyway, the building itself is a modernist style, and it has been built carefully over and around excavated Roman structures. There are places on the grounds of the foundation – and elsewhere in town, where the ruins are carefully displayed, with clear glass (plastic?) over them so that a person can see the ruins without doing any damage.  I really appreciated the town’s – and the Fondation’s – respect for the history of the Romans making their way through Martigny.  This museum is built down underground, so there is a permanent exhibit on the first floor that encircles a sort of auditorium in the open area on the next floor down. Under the permanent exhibit (i.e. encircling the auditorium) is where the special exhibit is displayed.

The special exhibit was the lithographs of Toulouse-Lautrec.  I LOVE Toulouse-Lautrec, so I was delighted! I certainly didn’t know very much about him, though, so I enjoyed the learning. It was fun to learn about the various people in the world of Paris nightlife, and I enjoyed seeing the lithographs. One showed a woman putting on a corset – suspiciously like the “bustier” I just finished making myself, before leaving on this trip. The description even mentioned the coutil – the sturdy fabric that is the basis of the bustier. (I think the woman in the lithograph was wearing a bustier because it closed in the back, like a bustier, and didn’t have laces, like a corset.) Anyway, seeing that particular lithograph was timely and fun. There was an adjoining room where the work of other lithographers working at the same time was shown – and also a couple of other artists, namely Picasso and Chagall.  The work of one or two of the other lithographers looked remarkably like that of Toulouse-Lautrec. Close to these was a display of black-and-white photographs done by a photographer working in Paris at the same time. About half of these were photos of women working in the Paris nightclubs. The others were of people from the arts – Victor Hugo, Baudelaire, Debussy, etc. – who were working in and around Paris at that time. (Brendan, you would have loved these.) Those photos led the museum-goer to another part of the permanent collection – a car museum! (Ben, I wish you’d been with me!) There were all sorts of cars, most made prior to 1940 and most European.  I didn’t recognize many of the “brands,” uneducated as I am in that domain, but there were a couple of Bugattis, and of course, a Mercedes Benz, and one Rolls Royce. And there was a bright yellow convertible that looked like the kind of car Gatsby would have driven. Of the American cars, there were a Ford and a Chrysler.  In honor of Ben’s new Fiesta, I took a photo of the Ford.

Then to the outside of the museum, where there is a well-tended sculpture garden. If this brings to mind Rodin, scrap that image. The sculptures were late 19^th (at the absolute oldest) to 20^th and 21^st century sculptures, including a Calder, a Miró, someone named Cesar, whose sculptures were a breast sticking up from the ground, and a thumb, also sticking up, and the L-O-V-E sculpture that became recognized when “Love Story” was popular. Also, the garden was not only well tended, but the various plants, flowers and trees were identified. It was lovely! I almost forgot – there was a sort of homage to Chagall – a little “booth” (I don’t know what else to call it) painted by him on the inside, with a small bird and fish that Chagall had sculpted. Also on the property was a building that housed a collection of black-and-white photographs taken by someone in the Gianadda family – a very talented photographer, and a history of the family.

I slipped out the back of the garden and went on to the St. Bernard Museum. Yep, this is a DOG museum! It also apparently serves as a training center for the dogs.  If you visit in the summertime – July and August, specifically, you can go on a hike with the dogs! Now, there are huge cages where the dogs live, and attendants bring them out periodically while the museum is open to allow visitors to pet the dogs.  (Yep, I petted one!) The dogs are also taken to schools to teach children how to approach dogs. And they are taken to senior residences to serve as therapy dogs. When I arrived, there was a big group of young people – I’m guessing teenagers – in wheelchairs. I’m not clear what the story was, but I’m guessing the dogs are trained to work with wheelchair riders, too. There is a museum, which basically tells the story of the dogs and how they worked – and work – in the mountains and why they are so effective. The exhibits addressed the St. Bernard in art, advertising and popular culture, and debunked the myth that the dogs carry brandy around in a small barrel around their necks – not true. It was a fun museum.  The very top floor is devoted to activities for children and involving images of the dogs.  Impressive.

By the time I left the museum and grabbed a sandwich, it was late afternoon. I schlepped my suitcase from the hotel to the train station, and got on the train for Zermatt. As you may know, Zermatt is (now) a resort town high in the Alps, and the place where you stay to go up the Matterhorn. So, the train went largely UP.  At one point, as it seemed we were nearing our arrival time, the ticket-taker came around to tell us there was a problem on the tracks, so we would need to get off the train, get on buses to go to the last stop on the train before Zermatt so we could get on the train again. (There are no cars in Zermatt, just little buses that move people around.) We did all that, and finally arrived in Zermatt – actually, only about 15 minutes late! I went to my hotel, a combination family home and hotel, and the owner took one look at me and put me in a room with a private bath, rather than the shared bath I had reserved, and charged me the same price. (Either I look old or scary, one of the two.) All of the houses look like Swiss chalets – probably because they are. And I can see a snow-covered mountain out of one of my windows.