When I was a kid, I hated Sundays. The seventh day would yawn ahead of me, defined only by boredom and roast beef. No shops, no plans, nothing doing. Hitting my teens, the day only lifted at 5pm when the Top 40 boomed from radio and I could amuse myself for two hours trying to capture songs on tape without any of the DJ’s chatter, a test of my digital dexterity on the `pause` and `record` buttons.
But then the world changed. Shops started to open, no-one bothered with tapes anymore, and the weekend finally had function.
That was many moons ago, but I find myself again thrown back into that Sunday feeling. On my first Sunday in the Duchy I had no idea of the time-warp that had happened overnight, until I arrived at the door of Auchan to find it shut. To my open-mouthed horror, even IKEA was closed.
Deciding to take advantage of forced recreational time, we took a family trip to Little Switzerland and discovered a wonderful walk starting at the dramatic and steep Wolf Gorge then winding around sleepy villages and dramatic rock formations, following the meandering stream back to the car, By then our stomachs had started to grumble, but we couldn't find any place selling dejeuner, no pretty café or bistro. Subway was open, but that wasn't exactly the authentic experience we had in mind.
As we munched on our Hearty Italians, walking through the picturesque villages, it felt like everyone else was snoozing. Could it be true?
Embracing once again the Sunday feeling, last week we went to MUDAM. Now, what I love best about modern art is its accessibility. It doesn't stare at you from the wall, challenging you to study your art history’ no, modern art is what we make of it. I’ll never forget seeing Tracey Emin’s tent, embroidered with the names all the men she’d ever slept with. So simple, so fascinating.
And MUDAM didn't disappoint. Lee Bul’s work especially grabbed the attention of the kids, who sat rapt in front of the dozen or so retching dogs, a homage to the artist`s own pet and lovingly re-worked in the same pose using various materials. “I like the one with cotton wool.” “Nah, I like that one, covered in tape!”
I think Ms Bul would have been delighted to see how engaged, how thrilled, we all felt by her work but sadly the security guards weren’t so delighted. They flinched every time the kids moved.
In the mirror instalation we discovered earphones that made everything around sound dream-like, so we had great fun taking turns with the headset and shouting at each other like we were in a coma, “Wake up! Don’t follow the light!” Until we were told off.
I’d love to have had Lee Bull with me at that moment. She is a woman who dressed like a human squid for 2 weeks in TOKYO airport, so I don’t think she’ d have had any truck with officious guards. However, as a rather more timid creature, I whispered to the kids to hush and resolved that next Sunday maybe we'll visit a cathedral.
Afterwards we drove home, via a garage for milk and provision, and then had an afternoon snooze. When in Rome….