What a day! It started with a run along the hillside, with spectacular views of the Mediterranean. It continued with getting lost and wandering all over suburban Nice, until I practically collapsed on the steps of the sole open boulangerie I had seen in hours (it being a Sunday afternoon) and begged the owner for a salmon sandwich.
Temporarily revived, I worked my way to the Chagall museum, had a rousing conversation about the U.S. healthcare system with the woman at the front desk, basked in bliss in front Chagall's later works (not so much his earlier, "biblical" subjects, which constituted the majority of the museum) and generally learned much and got inspired.
Chagall was Jewish, born in Russia, then moved, as many of the artistically inclined do, to Paris. He hobnobbed with the standard crowd of bohemians, and at one point moved back to his hometown in Russia and got stuck there because of the war. His biblical works, which are themes from the Old Testament done, of course, in his typical Chagall-y style, were his response to experiencing Nazi-occupied Europe.
There were also a lot of burgundy works dedicated to love and his wife, and his later works, my favorite, have a lot of horses, jesters, and circus-y themes. Like anybody who's cool, he was influenced by the German Expressionists, and he also started at least one art school and was the first artist to have a museum of his work constructed while he was still alive. So that's what I learned about Chagall, and I was happy to see this painting, a shout-out to Van Gogh:
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