F
rancis Bacon���s famous studio is now ensconced in Gallery 9, in all its cluttered splendor���some might describe it as
mad splendor���in Dublin City Gallery, The Hugh Lane. Thousands of small, normally discarded items crowd the tiny space
inducing near-claustrophobia. Yet, among the seemingly unimportant detritus are the relics of an artistic genius, ones that
inspired masterpieces of 20th century art.
In Boston���s old Scully Square (long torn down), a lively market including fruit and vegetable vendors incorporated horsedrawn wagons that kept automobile traffic moving slowly well
into the 1950s. In numerous garages, yards and sheds of my
youth, horseshoes and similar objects of use lingered after the
dominion of the automobile had begun. During summer visits
to Cape Cod as children, we played lively games of horseshoes.
The former was enjoyable and entertaining, but the latter were
artifacts of an era only recently past.
HYLAND