On the day that I was feeling at my lowest a couple of weeks ago, I read that the National Gallery would be opening on the 8th of July, and I didn’t hesitate for one moment in booking a time slot. I texted my friend D to see if she wanted to come along, which she more than did. Gone are the days of just rocking up on the fly when you fancy it; now it’s all about keeping numbers restricted in public places which in turn means nothing is spontaneous anymore. But better something than nothing. So, me and D where there on the first day, donning masks like the majority of all the visitors. The gallery had been shut for 111 days, a record; during WW2 it only closed for TWO DAYS.

There were reminders that things are not what they used to be.

One of the things I’ve enjoyed most about lockdown is that you get to see/do the things you never bothered with BC (before Covid), whether it be walking in a new to you part of the local woods, or down a street you’ve never been down before, or reading that book you’ve been meaning to for years, and finally sitting down with it and turning the first page. There’s now a one-way system in the National Gallery, and only three designated routes (A, B, C) that you can take. We had originally planned to just walk the B route thinking you were allowed only one, but when we were told that you could do all three, as long as you started with A ( you couldn’t walk back on yourself) we decided to start at the beginning. I have ALWAYS ignored the Renaissance galleries in the past. The era just never spoke to me. But now, stuck in a one way system, I had to look at the paintings and they were fascinating and a nice change to the kind of art that I’m into. As always we played the “Which one piece of art would you take home with you?” and this painting from the 1330’s was D’s. We agreed that it would look awesome in her flat.

We then turned around to look at this picture and got the worst giggles. As in tears streaming down our faces, stifling our laughter as it was so quiet (whilst wearing masks - a very very surreal moment that I will always remember). And feeling so bad because of the subject matter. But look at Mary’s face. She is not convinced. We reckon the artist was trying to paint her looking upset, but instead it looks like she thinks Jesus is pulling her leg with a fake wound. That and the fact the she looks a hell of a lot like Putin. Oh boy.

I’m not mad on religious iconography, but the carving, gold paint and the details of this guy’s beard were so great.

This small painting of a bird was my take home piece. I thought it quite symbolic of my lockdown; becoming a bird watcher whilst stuck at home.

Everyone was making sure they were not too close to each other, and the whole experience felt a bit unreal. No one talked loudly, and it almost felt like we were all looking for comfort or answers from the cultural past.

This painting had masked figures in it, referring to the Plague. These guys were the ones collecting the dead, and this is what they looked like back then. Pretty sinister, huh?

And this painting of these two kissing made us feel slightly uncomfortable from a social distancing point of view.

But not as uncomfortable as looking at this beast. I mean… Apparently he was a cross between a bat and snake? Any which way, he’s looks pretty pissed off with whoever that is trampling on him with their fancy shoes.

This room is usually full of tourists and school classes, but alas, they were not there. I hope they can be one day soon, especially school kids, as their worlds have narrowed so much this year.

Once out of the Renaissance rooms and on to route B, we walked through the Dutch and Belgian rooms. Those dudes could paint.

I really liked this lady’s contrasting outfit to what else was going on in this room.

A lucky discovery that day was the Nicolaes Maes exhibition, who was a Dutch former student of Rembrandt’s. His paintings were out of this world. Sadly we had kind of peaked by this point, so I might return one day with fresher eyes, so I can take it all in more.

Moving closer towards the Impressionist room we spotted this tiny painting. I love love love paintings of the mundane everyday. I think I’ve mentioned it here before, but I love the fact that someone took the time to slowly capture something that we all know, and give no attention to whatsoever.

This painting by Claude Monet made me have all the summer feels. It looks so inviting - for that last cool dip on a hot evening before the sun sets. You know what I mean, right?

Ahh, hallo Vincent. Hoe gaat het? Always a treat to look closely at his brush strokes. Kusjes.

This is one of my favourites of all the paintings at the National Gallery. It’s called ‘The Little Country Maid’ and was painted by Camille Pissarro in 1882. Such a beautifully captured little moment. I loves it.

And finally, D, next to some Bridget Riley dots on the way out. It was such a well needed treat to go and feast the eyes on beautiful things made by humans for a change. What an amazing species we are; both so clever and so stupid, so strong and so delicate, such creators and destroyers. Waaaah. Went a bit deep there! Enough already. Have a great weekend and may the sun shine on you wherever you are <3