It was Cinema Sunday on November 16th at the Charles, a movie theater on the eponymously-named street.
At 9:45 bagels and spreads were unveiled and coffee was on tap for the crowd of ripe hipsters, hippies, museum docents and curators, artists and other Baltimore fauna. Loved the scene. At 10:30 after a howling microphone was subdued, "National Gallery" was introduced by a big-wig from the Walters Art Museum and the film kicked off. Frederick Wiseman is in fine fettle as he shows us the paintings, the public, people from the art world saying their piece. People who set policy on how the museum should come across, whether it should be the destination of the popular London Marathon and be draped with banners or whether this would be demeaning to its lofty ideals...Docents passionate about their work, offering up images and metaphors to rapt audiences. Restorers who know tiny details about a master's technique, testing paint,repairing canvases. And of course the general public that meanders through the halls.
Apparently Wiseman clipped hundreds of hours of film, bringing it down to a modest three hours. But few people left during the screening - three mesmerizing yet thoughtful hours.
Sunday at the Charles Theater
