The tail of two queues

I apologise for two posts in one day.  However such is life.  As well as that break-through the bounds of decency, all the images in this were taken with my phone: wot a bogan!

The Far queue
The National Gallery has been running a show of Post-Impressionist stuff from the Musee D'Orsay.  It is rather good and has been very popular: at the time of writing my guess is that they will be topping 400,000 visitors, and getting them through at about 6000 a day. With two and a half weeks to go they could well top the half million!  This must have done miracles for the local accommodation industry.

However there have been some issues with the length of the queues.  The two images below show the first and second halves of the queue outside the door of the Gallery on about the 19th of March. In total they extended 240m and I counted 500 people in the queue.  My guess would be another 150 inside the building.  This queue goes to the door of the Natioal Portrail Gallery.  At times it has stretched across the road to Old Parliament House (580m, proportionately 1300 people) and down the road to Questacon (600m, possibly 1400 punters).













I don't know where the queue ended up on 30 March, but the car parking looked to be chaotic when we briefly visited the Gallery (see below) at 12:15.  A friend commented that it was about 2 hrs 30 mins to get in, and people stayed in the queue even when the rain poured down (20mm in 30 minutes)!  Astonishing - especially when realising that this was a Tuesday afternoon NOT in school holidays!

Doggone Art
Clearly this is not Dog-on-Art: more like Dog under Art.  I happened to be at the Gallery on 30 March with the small dog and decided to see how she felt about sculpture.  I suspect she can take it or leave it.  As shown in the following she was pretty blase about:



Fiona Hall's tree ferns (which I reckon are rather fantastic);













Bert Flugelman's cones (also very good, and I especially like them after hearing Bert speak about them a few weeks back): and












Something expensive and heavy by Henry Moore.  Unlike a couple of generations of Australian kids the small dog didn't climb on this work.

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