Monet and Venice at the de Young Museum

My late friend Jerry Morgan once described Venice, Italy as "the greatest tourist trap in the world, perfected over centuries." (Pictured is Canaletto's 1745 painting, The Bucintoro at the Molo on Ascension Day.)

Evidently, the French Impressionist painter Claude Monet was not interested in visiting such a well-trod location, but was finally cajoled into a visit by his second wife Alice Hoschedé in 1908, when he was 68 years old.

In an exhibit organized by the Brooklyn Museum and the de Young, nineteen paintings by Monet join a collection of Venetian views by other artists, including the 1881 Venice, the Doge's Palace by Renoir.

The impetus for the Autumn 1908 visit was an invitation by British socialite Mary Hunter to join her at her seasonal rental, the Palazzo Barbaro, which seemingly hosted every artist of the late 19th century, from Henry James to John Singer Sargent, who painted the 1899 An Interior in Venice there.

Alice and Claude were only scheduled to stay for two weeks, but were so enchanted by Venice that they moved into a hotel and stayed for another three months. Setting out on a gondola each day, Monet would paint the same locations repeatedly in varying light. (Pictured is The Grand Canal, Venice.)

Of the 37 paintings from this series, 19 have been reunited for this traveling exhibit.

After the Venetian sojourn, Monet exhibited these paintings for the public two years later, then retired to his home in Giverny where he was soon a grieving widower after Alice died in 1911.

Monet spent the next two decades working on his series of Water Lilies at home in Giverny, including this 1914-17 canvas owned by the SF Fine Arts Museums. The add-on price for the exhibit is exorbitant, but if you buy a reasonably priced annual membership to the museum, it's a bargain and you can go as often as you desire.

French Music at the SF Symphony

Last week's all-French San Francisco Symphony program on Thursday afternoon did not start promisingly. Just as the 51-year-old Swiss conductor Philippe Jordan was waiting for audience silence before the quiet opening of Debussy's 1894 Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune, a cell phone rang. After another pause, somebody emitted an explosive sneeze and the audience started giggling. There were two more cell phone alerts before Jordan finally gave up and embarked on an exquisitely transparent performance of the Prelude.

Rebecca Wishnia at the San Francisco Classical Voice website gave the concert a dismissive review, but I had a different experience and thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon. Part of the reason was that I bought a last-minute rush ticket and was seated in the second row of the orchestra section, smack dab in front of the fabulous French pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet, complete with sparkly jacket.

He was the soloist in the 1896 Piano Concerto No. 5, "Egyptian" by Camille Saint-Saëns, with its evocative slow movement depicting a journey on the Nile. The concerto has been derided as kitsch over the years, but I loved every minute of it, and Thibaudet gave an awesome performance, modulating his dynamics from delicate to forceful throughout.

For an encore Thibaudet was joined by conductor Jordan for the final movement from Ravel's 1910 Mother Goose Suite, entitled Le jardin féerique: Lent et grave (The Fairy Garden). It could not have been more charming.

After intermission, Jordan led an exciting account of Berlioz's 1830 Symphonie Fantastique. The five-movement work filled with famous tunes is completely eccentric. I heard Michael Tilson Thomas conducting the Symphonie Fantastique a couple of times over the decades, and it was always unsatisfying because he tended to smooth out the strangeness of the work, but that was not the case with Jordan. The concluding two movements, March to the Scaffold and Dream of a Witches' Sabbath were thrilling and weird, just as they should be.